This started out as a 'spelling challenge' story but has grown a life of its own, so it will be posted as a standalone ramble. No apologies for the length of chapter!

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Words required:

ceiling receipt field penultimate receive myriad deceive belief believe conceited shield deceiving relief emerge piece achieve deceitful conceive perceived receiving

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'Gamma, gamma!' Amelia called across the garden, 'ook!'

Jean smiled, hopefully one day her granddaughter would learn to pronounce her L sounds.

'What should I look at, darling?' Jean went to where the toddler was gazing in awe at a plant.

Amelia pointed at a leaf where she could just see a butterfly emerge from underneath. It's fine legs tiptoeing over the green foliage of the border plants.

'Butterfly, Amelia, that's a butterfly.' Jean smiled and gently picked the leaf so Amelia could see more clearly.

'Bur-fy!' Amelia repeated, excitedly. She liked being with grandma, she let her 'help' in the garden, explore and get dirty.

'Butterfly,' Jean enunciated.

'Bur-fy!' Amelia giggled again and then her face fell as the insect flew off.

'Gone.' She said, sadly. Jean picked her up and swung her high over her head laughing at her. She wished she could shield her from all the hurt and sadness she would encounter as she grew up, but she was only deceiving herself, like she did when her boys were young. Life was full of deceitful people who were only out to get what they could from others.

Jean supposed, no, she knew, she was very lucky. She had two lovely boys, now grown and making their own way in the world, a loving husband who would do anything for her and had restored her belief that there was someone for everyone, and an adorable grandchild whose need to learn was apparent even at this early age.

'Come on, sweetie, time to wash up for dinner.' Jean shifted the baby to her hip, 'want to help grandma cook?'

Jean took Amelia into the kitchen and sat her on the draining board while she ran some water in the sink. She washed their hands and dried them, then put Amelia on the floor to toddle round while she got out the things she needed for dinner. She had a piece of pork she planned to roast, putting the vegetables in the same dish. Lucien was partial to her 'one-pot' roast and it was easy to do when one had an inquisitive toddler 'helping' you around the kitchen.

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'Hello! Jean?' Lucien closed the front door behind him, 'I'm home!'

'Gandad, gandad!' Amelia ran, as best she could, to greet her step-grandfather, arms open to receive her hug and kiss.

He swung her high up, almost touching the ceiling making her squeal with laughter.

'Gandad, bur-fy in garden.' Lucien had reached the kitchen and looked perplexed. He looked over at Jean,

There was a butterfly in the garden.' Jean went over to him and kissed his cheek, 'she was fascinated.'

'I see,' He smiled, 'well, miss, maybe there'll be more butterflies tomorrow.' He kissed the child and placed her back on the floor.

'Dinner will be in about fifteen minutes, darling,' Jean said, turning back to the stove, 'can you entertain Amelia please, while I take the roast out?'

'Of course,' he took the child's hand, 'how about the piano, young lady.'

'Panano, panano!' Amelia ran over to the instrument and tried to lift the lid before Lucien got there.

'Wait, a minute, madam!' Lucien called, 'that's too heavy for you.' He got there just before she trapped her fingers.

'Honestly, Amelia, ' He took her hands in hers, 'I can't believe how impatient you are. Now, ' he sat on the stool and lifted her onto his knee, 'what piece shall we play today, hm?'

'Twink!' She bounced on his knee, 'Twink!'

'Alright,' he laughed, 'Twinkle twinkle it is.' He started to play an embellished version and Amelia watched his fingers dance up and down the keys, trying to catch them.

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'She's settled and fast asleep now,' Jean picked up her sherry and sat down, leaning close to her husband.

'You alright. love?' he asked.

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When Christopher had phoned and asked if they could have his toddler daughter for a while, he had worried she might find it a bit too much. To which she had replied 'How dare you!' With a cheeky grin, 'do you think I'm too old?'

'Perish the thought, my love,' he backed off, 'I just...er...' As usual Lucien had not thought it through. Jean was looking forward to it, though she didn't deceive herself it would be easy. Amelia was hers to fuss over and spoil, the way she never had done her boys, what she referred to as 'grandmother's privileges'. Even as she did exercise these rights, Amelia was not a difficult child to look after, yet she had myriad reasons to be.

Jean had spent a week with her son and his family just before Amelia came to stay, the idea being that she would take the baby back to Ballarat on her return and she had noted that there were a lot of rules in the house.

Amelia was always dressed like a little princess and not allowed to get her dresses dirty, so digging in the garden was a no-no, she was not allowed sweets or chocolate and her bedtime was strictly regulated. Jean perceived that Ruby was a bit obsessive with cleanliness and while Jean kept a clean and tidy house, she didn't worry too much about a little bit of dirt from the garden being trailed into the kitchen. Living with Lucien she had become used to lake water dripping from his suit, should he ,literally, go wading into Wendouree, or mud and soil samples examined on her table, even scientific experiments in the study! Jean was not conceited enough to think she was perfect, just practically perfect. She decided she would run some little outfits up for Amelia, dungarees and such like that would be idea for her playing in the garden. She had enough scraps of appropriate material to achieve this.

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'I'm fine,' Jean smiled, 'it doesn't seem strange at all, having a little one round the house, I thought it would.'

'She reminds me a lot of you.' Lucien draped his arm round her shoulders, 'inquiring,'

'...nosy, you mean.' Jean interrupted.

'Ok, have it your way,' he tightened his hold on her, 'nosy, busy and gorgeous.'

'Flattery, doctor,' she teased, 'but it's a relief she has settled in so easily.'

'She has, hasn't she?' He agreed.

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Christopher had not rung to see how his daughter was faring at her grandmother's. Jean was unable to conceive how he could be, to her, so cold hearted. Or was it Ruby? She tried ringing but got no reply, and thinking they had gone out for the evening, taking the opportunity while they had no child to consider, she tried again the following day. Again no answer. This began to bother her, Christopher had always called her once a week, and would ring to check she had arrived home after a journey, but not this time.

She spoke to Lucien about it, worried. He agreed it was not like him and said he would make some calls to find out if Christopher was alright.

'Apparently he and Ruby are on holiday, he's taken some leave to sort out 'family problems'.' Lucien told her the following evening. 'Don't ask.' He held his hands up, 'I don't know, I only know what they told me.'

'But what family problems?' Jean didn't like the sound of that, 'we're ok, and Ruby hasn't got any family, so what's going on?'

He knew exactly what she was thinking, she had said there was an atmosphere in the house when she was there.

'Lucien, you don't think...' she turned her face to him and he saw her eyes were filled with tears. She feared that her son and his wife were having marital difficulties, and maybe had sent Amelia to her so she wouldn't be on the receiving end of the fall out of any rows.

'Let's not go down that line, yet.' He kissed her, 'let's just concentrate on keeping Amelia happy and wait for them to tell us what's happening.'

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Jean took Amelia down into Ballarat to do some shopping, she had to get a new receipt book for the practice and she thought she'd take the toddler to the park after she had purchased that and the rest of the groceries she needed. Amelia liked the park, such a wide open space for her to run around in and play with a ball Jean had bought for her. It was as big as a field to the child and much as she liked being in grandma's garden she loved the park with bushes she could hid in and trees she could run round.

'Come on Sweetie,' Jean held her hand out for her, 'we need to get back so granddad can open the surgery. Lunch first, eh?'

'Gandad, 'unch'. dink.' Jean was beginning to worry about Amelia's speech, she would have to speak to Lucien about it, perhaps have her assessed.

'Lunch and drink', Jean put the emphasis on the missing sounds as she lifted the child into the pushchair.

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Lunch over, Amelia down for a short nap, Jean set about getting the waiting room ready. She replaced some of the older magazines and put some fresh flowers in the vase on her desk. The appointments today were mainly follow ups from referrals so they probably wouldn't be long ones, but one never knew.

Amelia woke up half way though surgery and Jean gave her a drink then let her play outside, leaving the back door open so she could come and go as she pleased. She had been shown that she wasn't allowed in the doctor's room and generally she did as she was told. She had on occasion gone to interrupt him but not often and she was never scolded, just escorted out. All the patients loved her and tended not to bother about it.

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The door burst open as Dr Blake was just finishing his penultimate consultation.

'Gandad, gandad, bur-fy!' Amelia shouted and ran round to him.

'I do apologise, Mrs Johnson,' He looked down at the child who had one hand cupped over the other, obviously hiding something.

'Now Amelia, you know when granddad's working you mustn't come in here.' He said tenderly.

'Bur-fy' she whispered, and held her hands out to him. She slowly lifted her hand off to show Lucien she had a butterfly in her hand and he was amazed at the gentleness of such a small child. She hadn't squashed it, or damaged a wing at all.

'Amelia, that's lovely, and aren't you a good girl for holding it so carefully.' He smiled. Then looked up as he heard Jean come in the room. Mrs Johnson was smiling too, such a sweet child.

'Amelia,' Jean held out her hand, 'come on, darling, let's go and put the butterfly back on a leaf.' Amelia covered the insect again and followed her grandmother out.

'What a lovely little girl, Dr Blake.' Mrs Johnson remarked, 'so gentle.'

'She is, isn't she.' Lucien smiled, 'now, where were we?'

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Amelia was persuaded that butterflies need to be left outside but she could look at them anytime she wanted and she carried on playing happily until the end of surgery.

Jean was just finishing preparing some vegetables when the phone rang,

'Blake residence.' She picked up the receiver.

'Christopher!' She sat down, 'where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you.' She listened to him tell what had been happening. Ruby had had a letter from some man in Sydney claiming to be her father. She had never known her father, he had left her mother before she was born but she was intrigued. They had decided they would go to Sydney, Christopher would take leave, and see if it was true. Ruby had always wanted to know where he was, her mother had just said he had gone walkabout and refused to say anymore, although Ruby was sure she was still in contact. But when her mother was taken ill and told she didn't have long to live she had burned any correspondence so Ruby couldn't even find out that way.

'Why didn't you say?' Jean queried, 'why the secrecy?'

'If it came to nothing then there would have been nothing to tell. We didn't want Amelia caught up in anything, dragged around Sydney. We wouldn't have had time to play with her.'

'Right, and now?' Jean still didn't think it was a valid excuse, he could have told her something, not just left her, literally, holding the baby.

'Well, it all looks good, in that he is Ruby's father.' Christopher told her, 'but we're going to stay for another two weeks, just to make sure. He has a good job, in fact he's done very well for himself, so he's not after money or anything. He says he's always tried to make contact but her mother wouldn't write back.'

'So you want me to have Amelia for another two weeks, then?' Jean asked.

'Please unless it's a bother.' Christopher sounded a little reluctant, 'how is she?'

'She's fine, perfectly happy, nice you remember you have a daughter.' Jean replied bitterly. 'I'm happy to have her, she's no trouble.'

'Mum...' Christopher wheedled.

'You only had to ring, a couple of times so I knew you thought of her occasionally.' Jean voiced her disappointment.

'Sorry.'

'It's not me you should apologise to it's her.' Jean told him, 'oh, here she is, would you like to speak to daddy, sweetheart?'

'Dada?' Amelia looked around. Jean showed her the receiver and she looked confused. Jean lifted her onto her knee and put the receiver to her ear.

'Hello, Amelia. Are you being a good girl?' Jean could hear him and smiled at Amelia.

'Dada? Bur-fy' She giggled.

'What is she on about, mum?' Christopher knew she would be listening.

'Butterfly.' Jean translated for him, 'there have been some in the garden.'

'Oh, very nice dear.' Jean rolled her eyes at his reply. Amelia wriggled off Jean's knee and went to find granddad.

'She's gone to find Lucien.' Jean smiled inwardly, '...and I must go and finish dinner. Please ring again to let us know what's happening and give my love to Ruby.'

'Right, mum, will do. Bye.' Christopher signed off and Jean looked at the receiver, shaking her head.

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The two weeks flew by for Jean, she wondered if that would be it and her son and his wife would come and claim their daughter back, a little piece of her actually hoped not. Lucien had agreed a speech and hearing assessment would be a good idea but her parents would have to initiate it. Until then they both encouraged her to try the missing sounds in her speech, but 'L' defeated her completely.

Watching Jean with Amelia, Lucien wondered how she would feel when Christopher and Ruby came to pick her up. The little girl had fitted into their lives as if she was meant to be there and it saddened him to think that they were unlikely to produce their own child. Amelia, too, would find it difficult to go back to being the little princess Ruby made her, she had become used to picking grubs and worms up in the garden, proudly showing them to her grandmother, or helping Jean plant new things, getting filthy and so happy doing so.

Jean had begun to introduce the idea of daddy and mummy coming to take her home but Amelia just said, 'No!' in that stubborn way that children do. She refused to speak to 'dada' over the phone and Jean became increasingly concerned that the upheaval would be too much for her.

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Sydney:

'You can't mean it, Ruby?' Christopher was stunned at his wife's demand.

'I need to spend time with my father, Chris,' she stood in front of him, frowning, 'I missed a whole chunk of my childhood, I don't want to miss any more time with him.'

'I have to get back to base, what about Amelia, what about the chunks of ehr childhood?' Christopher ran his hands through his hair.

'Surely your mum will hang on to her for a little while longer, I'm only suggesting a month.' Ruby argued.

'Ruby, she's a child not a handbag.' Christopher was astounded at her casual dismissal of their child's feelings. It was the only solution but at this rate Jean would bring his daughter up instead of him and Ruby.

They argued late into the night until he agreed to ask him mother if Amelia could stay at least another month. He began to resent the hold this man had over his wife, even if he had reached out to her mother over the years, expecting her to abandon her child for him was beyond the pale!

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Jean almost slammed the phone down, not because she was angry about having Amelia for another month or more; no, she would quite happily have her for as long as needed, but when Christopher had told her why, she was angry with Ruby. She felt she had her priorities the wrong way round, Amelia should come first.

Lucien heard the crash of the receiver on the cradle and came into the kitchen to find Jean red in the face from fury.

'Jean, what's the matter?' He pulled her close.

'Christopher. They want us to have Amelia for at least another month.' She leant her forehead against his chest, and told him what Christopher had said.

Lucien kissed the top of her head, 'Selfish madam,' he muttered, which surprised Jean, he was not given to criticizing her family. But he was right, it was selfish.

'I was having enough trouble getting Amelia to understand daddy and mummy would come and take her home. She keeps saying 'no' and now it's not going to happen for at least another month. What is the poor child supposed to think?' Jean looked into his clear blue eyes for an answer.

'I know exactly what she'll think.' He asserted, 'she'll think they don't care, possibly forget they are her parents, and she will cling to you when they come over, eventually.' He stood and looked at her, 'well, Mrs Blake, looks like we're in loco parentis and as such I'm going to suggest we have her ladyship assessed for speech and hearing. No point in waiting for her parents to make a decision about it.'

Lucien went to his study and mused about the situation. He had no problem Amelia staying, Jean was quite happy and it didn't appear to be too much for her, it was Amelia he worried about. He knew what it was like to be shifted away from home, he may have been ten years old but it was still hard to understand and it had led to a distance between him and his father that never really closed. Amelia was too young to understand and just reached out to the people that showed their love for her.

He put that aside and rang a consultant he knew in Melbourne, asking if there was any chance he would be in Ballarat soon. It was apparently going to be some time but he suggested that Amelia be taken to the speech and language nurse at the hospital and ask her to do the basic assessment. It was possible, he said that she just had delayed speech. Had Lucien noticed any improvement in the child's speech since she had come to stay?

'Yes, actually, both of us have.' Lucien agreed it was possible, 'she's much clearer it's just the 'L' sound.'

'Good, well, I don't think there's much to worry about. Call me if the tests show anything untoward.' The consultant rang off, wishing him good luck.

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Amelia wriggled on Jean's lap in the clinic. She didn't like the funny things they put over her ears or the silly noises she had to listen to. There was nothing wrong with her hearing, thankfully so it did appear that it was just a delay in her speech pattern. If it didn't improve they could give Mrs Blake some speech exercises for her, but for now not to worry.

Jean was happy and took Amelia to have an ice cream for being a good girl, before heading home. Amelia was rather sticky even after being wiped down with a serviette, but she was quite content to be with her grandmother and being indulged. Jean smiled at her knowing that when they got home the first thing she would do would be to put her sticky fingers on Lucien's face, as she always did.

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Jean had lost track of time and was in the garden with her granddaughter. They were digging some weeds out and Amelia was putting her hands in the holes to see if there was anything interesting to take out and show grandma.

'Amelia,' Jean laughed, 'you're supposed to fill the holes in, not make them bigger.'

Amelia wiped her hands on the dungarees Jean had made for her, she was filthy but oh so happy, and Jean loved to see her this way. It reminded her of the boys when they were young, always grubby, with holes in the knees of their trousers and pockets filled with worms and old rusty nails they had found around the farm. Amelia grinned and flung her arms across her shoulders, leaving muddy handprints on her blouse.

'Mum?' She wheeled round to see Christopher standing there. 'Sergeant Davies let me in, you didn't answer.'

'Christopher, I'm sorry I didn't hear you.' She stood up the toddler in her arms, aware she looked a mess.

'So I see.' He raised his eyebrows at the sight before him, his normally neat and tidy mother and prettily dressed daughter covered in soil and mud, and Amelia in dungarees!

Amelia nestled into Jean's shoulder, refusing to look at her father. 'Come on Amelia, let's go and get washed and give daddy a cup of tea, shall we?' Jean didn't wait for an answer, she didn't expect one, Amelia had stopped asking for dada weeks ago and judging from her current behaviour wasn't too happy to see him. Jean knew it would happen, it was inevitable, she was having far too much fun with her grandparents.

In the kitchen she put Amelia on the draining board and started to run water to wash her hands.

'I'll make the tea, Jean,' Charlie had changed out of uniform and arrived back in the kitchen.

'Thanks, Charlie, I think we need a better wash than usual.' Jean grinned at him, he was used to seeing Jean and Amelia fresh from their work in the garden.

Up in the bathroom she stripped Amelia out of the dungarees and washed her, taking her own blouse and skirt off and washing herself. She was so glad she left a robe on the back of the bathroom door, or she would have had to go downstairs in her slip. Amelia's clothes were in her room and she dressed the child in a simple cotton dress, nothing like the frills that Ruby usually attired her in. She left the child barefoot and took her with her while she put a clean blouse and skirt on. She gave her hair a quick brush and went back into the kitchen

Charlie had made tea and Christopher was sitting drinking, both men were silent, Christopher musing over the swift talking to that the police officer had given him. How could he just deposit such a small child on her grandparents and then not contact them for weeks? Did he know how much Jean had done for the baby? How Amelia was quite content where she was, and now he intended to uproot her. Three months was a hell of a long time to expect a nearly two year old to spend away from her parents without understanding what was going on. Charlie had seen the bond created between Amelia, Jean and Lucien, he'd even heard Amelia call Jean 'mummy' and Lucien 'daddy' on more than one occasion. Nobody had corrected her, in fact he wasn't sure they'd noticed.

Charlie got up from the table and took his tea into the living room, leaving mother and son to talk. He hoped it would be 'pleasant', but he knew Jean was angry about the way Amelia had been handed to the Blake's. He admitted he was fond of the child and would miss her when she went home, but it was Jean he felt sorry for.

'So, Amelia,' Jean sat the child on her knee and handed her a biscuit, 'here's daddy.' Amelia sat and stared at the man opposite her and stuck out her lower lip. Jean bit her lip to stop the smile that threatened.

'Hello, princess.' Christopher leant across to stroke her face. Amelia turned into Jean's shoulder and took a handful of her blouse. Amelia only did that if someone unnerved her.

'It's alright, sweetheart,' Jean soothed, 'it's only daddy.' But she could feel the tears already soaking her blouse. She tried to pull the child away to look at Christopher but she wouldn't let go.

'Mum?' Christopher questioned, quietly.

'What did you expect?' Jean snapped, 'she's only a baby.'

'It hurts at any age,' Lucien had been observing the scene, 'no matter how old you are, when you're taken away from your home without a proper explanation, it's confusing, painful.'

'Where's Ruby?' Jean asked, walking round the kitchen, jiggling Amelia on her hip.

'Sydney, she's staying a while longer.' Christopher almost whispered.

'How much longer, Christopher?' Jean asked. 'Or is she not coming back to you?'

'She will come back, she promised,' he looked at her, 'she wants time.'

'Time, time!' She was so angry, at both of them, she stormed out of the room.

Christopher stood up and found himself facing the doctor.

'I suggest you and Ruby sort yourselves out, Lieutenant,' Lucien urged, 'Amelia will stay with us until you do, it's in her best interests. As you can see she is hurt and confused.'

'She's my daughter.' Christopher was aghast, Dr Blake was telling him he would lose Amelia, he knew it.

'You should have thought of that before you high tailed it off to Sydney, without telling your mother the real reason, then not contacting her to enquire of your daughter's health or happiness.' Lucien squared his shoulders, 'Amelia has formed a strong bond with her grandmother, and it has not escaped either of us that on more than one occasion she has called us mummy and daddy. I can take steps, Christopher, for your daughter's sake.'

Lucien's tone was almost threatening, but he knew what it was like to be pushed away, given into the care of others without explanation and he didn't want Amelia to go through that. Even if she ended up being raised by Jean and himself she would be loved and told why, when she was old enough to understand, more important than anything.

Christopher left, shoulders slumped. He had to get back to Adelaide, back to the base before he got into trouble for deserting his duty. He would have to ring Ruby to tell her what was happening with Amelia.

Lucien went to find Jean. She had headed into the house rather than out to the sunroom so he surmised he might find her in the studio. There she was, sitting in a chair reading to Amelia quietly. She looked pale and suddenly tired, Amelia was sucking her thumb and leaning against her grandmother's shoulder. Lucien went over to her and crouched down in front of her,

'Jean,' He spoke quietly, tenderly, 'I've told Christopher he and Ruby need to sort themselves out. Until they do, Amelia will stay here with us. I've also told him that if they don't I will take steps to ensure she is safely taken care of.'

'Lucien,' Jean smiled gently, 'thank you, on behalf of Amelia. I am angry with them both, they've been selfish, I didn't think either of them could be like this with their own child and I'm sure that Ruby's father, given his search for his daughter, would also be appalled by her behaviour.'

'Hm, I wonder if he knows about Amelia,' Lucien mused, 'I can't help wondering if he does have some kind of hold over Ruby, in spite of what Christopher says.'

'Lucien...' He had that look in his eyes that told her he was mulling over a problem, and that problem was Ruby's father.

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This had turned into needing a second chapter or more, not sure.

Amelia' speech inflections, I have worked with children who exhibit these particular idiosyncrasies.

Reviews, comments? It is a bit waffly, sorry.