It was one of those rare mornings Jean and Lucien were alone in the house, Charlie had gone to Melbourne for the weekend. The sunlight streamed through the curtains over the bed where Jean lay with her head on Lucien's shoulder, her arm resting on his bare chest. Married barely six months these rare, quiet mornings were among the most special times. She sighed contentedly and wriggled closer, if that were possible!

Lucien inclined his head and kissed the top of hers, smiling as he did so. Life was good, very good indeed. She looked up at him and he moved so he was facing her, gazing into her sleepy eyes. He stroked her cheek and raised her face to his. Just as their lips met...

(no, not the phone!)

...a sharp knock on the front door.

They both sighed. Jean pushed herself up and got out of bed. She grabbed her nightdress, which, for some unaccountable reason, was on the floor and pulled it over her head. As she headed out of the bedroom taking her dressing gown off the back of the door, there was another knock on the door.

'Coming!' she called brightly, but not feeling it.

She opened the door to find a young woman, well girl really, holding the hand of a grubby faced toddler.

'Are you Mrs Beazley?' the girl asked.

'I was; Mrs Blake now.' Jean answered, obviously not a local girl, everyone called her Mrs Blake these days.

'But you are Jack's mum?' she persisted.

Jean's shoulders dropped, what had he done now, although she had a feeling she knew.

'Yes,' she stood aside to let the pair in.

'I'm Sally, this is Bobby, your grandson.'

'Is Jack with you?', but she knew the answer. Jack wouldn't come to Ballarat again after last time.

'He left us.' Sally looked directly at Jean with nothing but anger in her eyes.

'Jean, who is it?' Lucien appeared in the hall. He had dressed thinking it might be a patient. He looked at the group before him, a young girl with a defiant set to her jaw, a toddler urgently sucking his thumb and Jean...looking suddenly tired.

Jean ushered the visitors into the kitchen where she started to make tea. As she did so she explained to Lucien who the pair were and introduced him as her husband, Dr Blake. She put the tea things on the table together with a cup of warm milk for Bobby. As she turned to fill the teapot Lucien went over to her and whispered in her ear,

'You get dressed, I'll do this.'

Jean gave him a wan smile and squeezed his hand as she left the room.

'Excuse me.' she said.

As she walked towards their bedroom and bathroom she heard Lucien speak to Bobby.

'Come on young man, let's wash those hands and then I'll see if Grandma has some biscuits in the tin.'

'Bickits!' laughed Bobby.

Lucien lifted him onto the draining board and lathered his own hands with soap and water before taking Bobby's hands in his and cleaning them thoroughly. He took the dish cloth, it was a clean one, and washed the grubby little face. Bobby giggled as Lucien made faces at him. Hands and face dried Bobby was lifted down and Lucien opened the biscuit tin. He turned to Sally,

'I know it's probably not good at breakfast time...'

Sally shrugged her shoulders.

Lucien took that as a 'carry on', so he took two biscuits out and, sitting the child on his lap at the table, helped him drink his milk and showed him how to dunk his biscuits, all the while telling him not to do it in front of his grandmother. When Bobby had finished he decided the best place to clean his hands was in Lucien's beard!

'No!' shrieked the Doctor as Jean walked back into the kitchen. She burst out laughing. Sitting down she poured tea and then turned to Sally, she needed to know why they had turned up so suddenly. She hadn't spoken to Jack since before the wedding, the only way she was able to contact him was through Christopher. It saddened her that they were estranged but she couldn't force him to speak to her.

Lucien felt that this was one conversation Jean had to have on her own so he decided to take Bobby into the garden.

Sally started on a rehearsed speech of how Jean had a right to know her grandson and he her, even if Jack wouldn't contact her. Jack had found being a father tiresome and had, apparently, little patience with his son. She knew Jean would not be happy about her grandson being illegitimate but there was nothing she could do about that.

'I'm sorry for what Jack has done, but I'm not sure what you want from me; is it money? Do you want to stay here for a while?'

Sally shook her head, 'That wouldn't be right.'

They sat looking at each other neither one knowing what to say.

'May I use your bathroom.' Sally broke the silence.

Jean showed her where the upstairs bathroom was and said she would go and make some bacon and eggs. At least she could provide them with a good meal.

In the kitchen, Jean started by washing up the tea things. With her back to the hatch and the clattering of the washing up she didn't hear Sally creep down the stairs, and head out of the front door, closing it almost silently.

Sally had to do it this way, she knew Bobby would be well looked after and loved here, but she couldn't bear to say good bye to her son. It was better to leave him with his grandmother rather than in an orphanage. They weren't nice places, she knew, she'd grown up in one. Which is why she'd been drawn to Jack, he was the first person to show her some kind of love.

Lucien and Bobby came in from the garden, they were filthy!

'What have you boys been doing!?' Jean demanded. ' Lucien, those are you suit trousers!'

'Dig, dig; replied her grandson, grinning widely.

'Lucien! Oh...go and get washed, you're not eating breakfast like that!'

'Oops Bobby, I think we're in trouble.' Lucien was obviously enjoying himself, which Jean found amusing. This was a side of Lucien she hadn't seen before, she was glad it was there, she had something to tell him later.

'Where's Sally?'

Jean suddenly realised Sally was an awfully long time in the bathroom. She fled upstairs, the bathroom door was wide open, she checked the upstairs bedrooms and finding no one there she ran downstairs, straight into Lucien carrying Bobby.

'Gone,' she cried, 'she must have planned it!'

'Did she give any indication that's what she was up to?'

'No. She just said I had a right to meet my grandson, I thought she was moving away.'

Jean ran her hands through her hair, Lucien pulled her close with his free arm as tears started to fall down her cheeks. Bobby reached out and put his muddy, chubby arms round her neck and planted an equally muddy kiss on her cheek. In spite of Jean's obvious distress Lucien had to laugh. He took his handkerchief and wiped her face, he showed her the dirty mark and even she had to smile.

'We'll manage sweetheart, and better this than an orphanage. What would you have said if she'd asked?'

Jean looked at him with a 'you know perfectly well what I'd have said' look.

'Thought so...' he kissed her forehead.

'Lucien...'

'Ye...s?'

She may as well tell him now, it seemed appropriate.

'We're going to be rather busy in six months time.' A coy smile played around her lips.

'You mean...' Lucien smirked, '...well how did that happen?'

'Lucien,' she slapped his arm playfully, 'you're a doctor, you should have worked it out by now!'

'Do you realise that our grandchildren will be older than our own child?'

'Oh Lucien,' she sighed.

Somehow she knew everything would be alright in the end.