January 6th 1958
Jean collected the cards off the surfaces. So many good wishes for Christmas for both her and Lucien. Patients and friends, family and acquaintances. Each one had given her joy as she had opened the envelopes, but now it was time to clear away, dust the furniture and put the tree out for collection. She sighed. Putting the last of the tree decorations in its box she smiled, they would be out again next year.
'Need a hand?' Lucien put his head out of the study.
'Please.' The task of clearing away the Christmas decorations always depressed her, so to have some help would stop her thinking too hard. 'Can you help me get the tree out for collection?'
'Right-ho!' He'd be guided by Jean, she ran the house, the business and increasingly his life; which he had come to like, no, not 'like', love. He wondered what he would do without her, considering he had originally decided he didn't need a housekeeper!
Lucien took the bottom of the tree while Jean took the top, moving backwards out of the front door. They giggled as needles dropped and the hall table was in danger of being dragged out too. Jean tripped over the step, and struggled to regain her balance, but, just before Lucien ran to her aid she righted herself. Together they man-handled the tree to the end of the drive, laughing like children.
As they walked back up the drive she turned to him with a grin on her face and a sparkle in her eyes.
'Thanks.' She said, touching his arm, a completely out of character act. 'I hate taking the decorations down, it makes the house seem so dark.'
They had reached the front door, still open from when they had dragged the tree out, before Lucien noticed the needles in her hair. He stopped and stretched out his hand to her head. She ducked, unsure of what he was about to do.
Crossing the threshold of the house he tried again,
'You have pine needles in your hair.' He stroked her head to brush the interlopers away, spreading his hand over her cheek, using his fingers to flick bits of green to the floor. She looked at him, holding her breath, her lips slightly parted in wonder. His hand closed around her head, pulling her close, dipping his head to hers and finally touching her lips with his.
'Lucien.' She breathed, then gave in and responded to his kiss.
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January 6 1959
She placed the sleeping baby in his bassinet, reckoning she had time to clear away the Christmas cards, tree and decorations before her son woke for his next feed.
'Need a hand?' Lucien put his head out of the study.
She giggled, 'Haven't we been here before?'
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Just a short, end of season story. Time to clear away for me too, but no lovely distractions, sigh!