Jean took one last look at her room, she would not see it for a long time, if at all.

She knew she was running away, and part of her was ashamed for doing so, but she really couldn't stay, and the further away she went the better.

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The townsfolk of Ballarat whispered, gossiped more than they ever had done before she came, his wife. Jean's emotions had run through pity, sorrow, hatred, anger, all for one woman who had turned her world on its head. People who used to speak to her in the shops, the market, now shunned her, patients still came to the practise, to see what was going on, to see if she was really having an affair with Dr Blake, under the nose of his poor wife. She wasn't, but the mere fact she stayed in the house and Mei Lin stayed in a hotel was enough for stories and rumour to fly round Ballarat; and so Jean had decided she must leave.

She hadn't discussed it with the doctor, and when she had told Christopher what had happened and asked if she could stay with him for a while, he said it wasn't possible, that she would have to sort it out herself. So she had done the only thing she could do, found another position that didn't require a reference from her current employer - maid on a ship, going to England.

Her letter to Mattie had told enough for the young woman to find a two bedroom flat, she had been thinking of moving out of the Nurses' Home, anyway, and this had given her the push to do so. She reserved judgement on Lucien's behaviour until she could have a proper talk with Jean, but until then she would offer her the shelter they had offered her when she was newly come to Ballarat.

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Jean watched the coastline of her homeland disappear from view then went to work, settling the passengers in their cabins on her level. She was responsible for ten family cabins and their occupants. There would be enough work to stop her thinking too hard about the life she had lost, although tears at night would come easily.

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'Dear Lucien,

I am sorry to do this, but I have decided that to stay is not an option. You are aware of the gossip surrounding both of us and I can no longer ignore it.

Mei Lin is your wife and she should be the one to open the door and greet your patients, cook your meals and tidy your home.

I do love you, but our love is not meant to be, so, take care of yourself, my dearest, and try not to think too badly of me.

This is for the best, we will make new lives without each other.

All my good wishes go with you, my dear doctor,

Jean.'

He stared at the neat handwriting, folded the paper and tucked it in the breast pocket of his jacket before drowning in misery, crying his way through the night, drinking himself to oblivion. Jean had gone. The trouble was he didn't know where. Christopher?

Jean didn't know of the rows he had with Mei Lin, the questions she wouldn't answer, the truth about the appearance of Derek Alderton in their lives and his subsequent murder at the hands of Sullivan. Now he was stuck. Stuck with a woman he no longer loved, in fact he wasn't sure he liked her much, anymore. Stuck in a rambling house with a Senior Constable for company, who was out more than he was in, and his anchor had weighed and left him floundering on a stormy sea.

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Charlie was surprised to see the kitchen empty, no breakfast, no Jean. He headed back up the stairs and knocked on her door. When he received no answer he tentatively pushed open the door. The room was tidy, the bed had been stripped, the dressing table was devoid of what he thought should be there. He went in and opened the wardrobe, it was empty. Jean had gone.

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'What do you mean, she couldn't stay with you?' Lucien bellowed down the phone, 'she's your mother!' He slammed the receiver down on Christopher, not wanting to hear some feeble explanation about propriety and sorting herself out. That was for a parent to a child, not the other way round.

Charlie watched him seethe and pour whisky down his throat. Without Jean he was rudderless, and even though Jean had written that Mei Lin should take her place she was still at the hotel. Every time he came back from there he was madder than hell.

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'He can't go on like this.' Matthew, Alice and Charlie sat in Matthew's house discussing Blake. 'He'll drink himself to death.' Alice sighed. 'Where did she go?'

'No idea,' Charlie sipped a cup of tea, 'she gave no indication she was leaving. She was unhappy, any fool could see that, and he didn't know what to do about it.'

'He's filed for divorce,' Alice threw in, 'he told me yesterday. Mei Lin was sleeping with Alderton, at the hotel.'

'Did Jean know?' Matthew looked shocked.

'Don't think so, if she did she would have stayed, helped him through it, or at least just gone away for a couple of weeks.' Charlie suggested. 'He didn't say anything to me.'

'Right, Charlie,' Matthew slapped his hands on the table, 'Jean's room, you say it's empty?'

'Clean, as you would expect,' he agreed.

'Is Blake in?'

'If he is he'll be so drunk...'

'That room needs examining with forensic precision,' Matthew turned to Alice, 'Dr Harvey, you up for a bit of sneaky detecting?'

'Get me in, I'll scour the place.' She smiled.

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'He's not here,' Charlie came out of the study, having checked the places his landlord usually was, the study was his last call.

'Alice, you do the bedroom, Charlie, you and me'll do down here.'

'Boss,' they chorused.

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Alice found nothing in the bedroom, Charlie and Matthew found nothing but an old newspaper in the paper rack.

'Not like Jean to keep an old paper.' Charlie opened it and started to check pages for any indication she had found somewhere to go, a new job to try for...

'Hey,' he held up a page with a hole carefully cut in it.

'Down to the Courier.' Matthew grabbed his stick and called for Alice.

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'Bloody hell!' Charlie whistled, 'talk about getting well away, England.'

'She'll go to Mattie,' Matthew grinned, 'we can get a message to her.'

'We've got to tell Blake,' Charlie stopped him, 'he needs to know.'

'Not yet.'

'Why not?'

'He needs to get the divorce sorted, first,' Matthew whispered, 'then he can go after her, if he wants to. We do, however need him to know we can help, and that all is not lost. Besides, we can't send him off in his condition, she'll kill him.'

'I don't think he'd care.' Alice mused, 'to die at her hand, he would consider, the only thing he deserves.'

They both looked at her, Alice Harvey wasn't given to sentiment, romanticism they thought.

'Ri i ight,' Matthew turned back to Charlie, 'now how to let him know?'

'He just needs to know we understand,' Alice perched on the edge of a desk, 'little things, like how much we miss her, take fish and chips round, be there when he's at his loneliest. The evenings must be the hardest...'

'...going to take up knitting, doc?' Charlie smirked.

'I'm not going that far,' she huffed, 'just pop round to discuss a case.'

'You know,' Matthew sighed, 'it's not that much fun, living in a hotel, anybody know of any spare rooms going?'

'I like it,' Charlie nodded, 'there's Mattie's room and the guest room. But you'll have to take your turn at the cooking.'

Matthew looked at him and drew his brows together, 'Don't get cocky, Davies.'

'Sir,' but it was smiles that passed between them.

'God help us, you three together,' Alice rolled her eyes.

'Care to join us, doc?' Matthew laughed.

'I don't think so,' she shook her head, 'living with three single men, what kind of a reputation is that going to get me?' Not that she really cared, but it was hard enough being a woman in a man's world...

'You're probably right,' Matthew sighed, though he'd quite like to get to know her better, all in the cause of team work, of course.

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Lucien hadn't really noticed Matthew had moved in for about a week, when he pointed out that he seemed to be there for breakfast a lot.

'I was here for dinner as well,' Matthew reached for the teapot. 'in fact, I find that guest room very comfortable.'

'Huh.' Blake huffed, 'well you can do your own washing, there's nobody else here to do it.' He grabbed his breakfast had took it into the living room.

'Didn't think Jean allowed eating in the living room,' Matthew called over.

'She's not here,' he snapped back, 'it's my house.'

Matthew shrugged his shoulders, it was the first time they had mentioned her name in recent weeks.

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Charlie picked up his post from the hall table. It was obvious Lucien had been through the pile, Matthew had left it neat and tidy earlier that day. He had a letter, postmarked London.

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Mattie wrapped her arms round Jean at the station. Her friend looked thinner, tired, and heartbroken. Whatever Lucien had done had taken the life from her. All Jean had said in her letter was that it would be better if she left Ballarat and Australia, things were not good between her and the doctor. She'd get to the bottom of it over the next few days, but first, home, tea and settle her in.

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It took Jean a couple of days to settle in and get used to the damp and cold of a London winter. She told Mattie she would try to find some kind of work, help with the bills.

'Don't rush, Jean,' Mattie sat with her one evening, 'and you'll have to get a permit, first.'

'I suppose so, I didn't really give it much thought, just had to get away,' she looked at her young friend, she deserved to know the truth.

'Blimey,' Mattie breathed, when Jean had finished the story, 'and he has no idea where you are?'

'No, well not unless somebody's worked it out, I did leave a clue...' Jean sighed, '...that was stupid, wasn't it?'

'No, you are looking for the truth of his feelings towards you. What would you do, if he got a divorce and came after you?' Mattie was never one to beat about the bush.

'It would depend why he got divorced. If it was because of me,' she thought for a moment, 'he would have to prove beyond any doubt that he really did love me and would not throw me over if I annoyed him. If it was over her behaviour, I was never sure about her relationship with Derek, then maybe I would be more open. I'm not against divorce, although it goes against the church...'

'...but if the church and your so-called friends have turned against you...'

'Exactly.' Tears sprang to Jean's eyes, 'I have never felt so alone in a crowd as I did the first time I went to Sunday Mass, after she came back and moved into the hotel. I just wanted to find a hole and crawl into it and die.'

'Oh Jean,' Mattie moved to sit next to her on the small couch, 'how horrible.'

'The trouble is, Mattie,' she sobbed, 'I love him so much, so much I can no longer stand to see him, because it hurts, and he's hurting. I know he's been drinking more than ever, well at least when I left he was, especially when he came back from the hotel.'

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Mattie nipped out to the post office in her lunch-break, her letter to Charlie told all, how Jean loved Lucien, how hurt she had been by the gossips, the whispers; scolded him, Matthew and Alice for not supporting her. She asked what was going on with Lucien and Mei Lin, were they a couple, why did he drink so much after he had been at the hotel? She also included her rota for the next month so he would know when he could reasonably expect to catch her at home to call should he wish to.

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Charlie took the letter to his room to read, and was not surprised and the scolding he and the others got from her. He would show them the letter and, together, they would write a reply. At least, he thought, there is hope, if she still loves him. So they had to clean him up, get him through the divorce and get them together again. How, he wasn't sure, but somehow they would.

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Dinners at the Blake house were strained, to say the least, but his friends were not giving up on him. Lucien's divorce hearing, at the court in Melbourne had been over quickly. Mei Lin admitted adultery, with Derek Alderton, so Lucien was granted a divorce on those grounds. He left the court cleansed but he didn't feel like celebrating, for that he needed somebody who had walked out on him, someone he had relied on, but at the moment he felt had let him down.

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Alice found him sitting on the floor in the sunroom, a bottle of whisky on the little table Jean usually put her tea cup on. He was dishevelled, his tie loosened, shirt un-tucked and shoes off showing holes in his socks. He was a sorry sight, she thought, a sad and sorry sight.

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'Right,' Matthew sat at the head of the table, 'now his divorce is through, time to clean him up, get him sober and let him know where she is and why she went. Because I am damn sure he has no idea.'

'He won't have her name mentioned,' Alice sighed, 'when we're in the morgue, he really thinks she didn't care.'

'Oh for god's sake!' Matthew snapped, 'how stupid can he be? Surely he saw how difficult it was for her when she stayed.'

'He did ask,' Charlie noted, 'what he could do to make things easier? He knew the talk was getting her down, but I don't think he knew how bad it was. Nobody bad mouthed her to him.'

'Alice, sorry but we need a woman's touch...' Matthew started.

'I'm not Jean so I can say what I want?' She raised her eyebrows, 'can I read him the riot act?'

'Please, be our guest.' Matthew and Charlie nodded.

'And you two?'

'I'm going to ring Mattie,' Charlie stood, and looked at Matthew.

'When you've made sure that it's ok, that Jean still wants him, I'm going to book his passage on a plane, ship's too slow, and he is going to go and make up or break up with her.'

'Perhaps I'd better wait until you've spoken to Mattie, Charlie,' Alice suggested, 'so I can be honest when I tell him she wants him.'

'Right.'

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It was difficult for Mattie, to answer all Charlie's questions, Jean was in the living room, knitting.

'Of course,' she whispered, to 'does she still want him?'

'Absolutely,' to 'can we send him over?'

'Not at all,' to 'will she care that he's divorced, it was Mei Lin who was unfaithful.'

'Right, look forward to it,' she finished off when Charlie told her when he would be landing, and asked if she could pick him up.

Jean looked up as Mattie came back into the living room.

'Everything alright?' She asked.

'Absolutely fine, just a friend asking if they can visit in the next few weeks.' Mattie smiled, well, technically it was true,' just arranging time to pick up. Tea?'

'Lovely,' Jean smiled and then thought, 'would you like me to stay in a hotel for the time...'

'Heavens no,' Mattie gasped, that was the last thing she wanted, that was what she was going to do, or rather she could use a room in the Nurses' Home. Then they would have the privacy to sort out what they wanted to do. She just hoped her pots would survive!

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'Right, Dr Blake,' Alice stood in front of him, 'get up!'

'Huh? Why?' He pouted.

'Because you are a mess, a drunk and we are sick of you wallowing in self pity.' She snapped.

Lucien was not noted for being rude to a woman which is why Matthew had suggested it was Alice that gave him the stern talking to.

'Nothing to stay sober for.' He grunted. 'My wife was unfaithful and the woman I thought cared pisses off without so much as a by your leave.'

Alice may not have been a tall or particularly physically strong woman but anger can do funny things to a person's strength. She reached down and grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. She all but slammed him against the wall and stood so close he could almost see the pores of her skin.

'You selfish bastard!' She yelled, 'why the hell do you think we are still here? For her, for Jean...yes Jean, that sweet and gentle woman who, because you didn't stand up for her, tell her how much it meant to you that she was there, finally broke and left. Just once, that would have been enough, one time you should have told her you loved her, instead of expecting her to know. She put up with your miserable face every morning, your drinking, the gossip in town, the whispers, the turned backs and not once did you say anything to help her. God only knows why she still loves you, but she does and now you are going to get cleaned up, get your hair cut and tidy your beard. Savvy?!'

She let go and pushed him into the house where Charlie and Matthew were standing in the kitchen having heard everything.

He sloped through and up the stairs to the bathroom, so stunned at the force she had gone at him with. He ran a bath, dropped his creased suit, and the rest of his clothes and got into the warm water. He lay back and closed his eyes, and thought. Alice had said Jean still loved him, but how did she know? What had they been keeping from him? He was too tired and drunk to be angry, but her words had hit home and he lay there and cried. He cried for all the things he had lost, for Jean and all the things he should have said and done and for himself. Alice was right, he was a selfish bastard.

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'Right,' Matthew put glasses and a jug of water on the table. 'remind me not to get on the wrong side of you, Dr Harvey.'

Alice just nodded and gave a little smile.

'So, how much do we tell him?' Charlie turned from the stove, 'and how?'

'We tell him, first why Jean left,' Matthew continued laying the table, 'what was said in the town, how people turned from her. Then why she decided she had to go so far away.'

'Don't forget the clue she left, it must have been a clue, the paper.' Alice passed the plates to Charlie, 'you said, Charlie, that Jean would never keep such an old one.'

A quiet and polite cough stopped any further conversation. She turned to see Lucien, wearing his robe and a suitably contrite expression.

'Come and eat, Lucien,' Alice's voice softened, 'you must be hungry.'

'Thank you.'

Charlie put the stew and potatoes out, 'not as good as Jean's, I'm afraid,' he apologised.

'I'm sure it will be lovely, Charlie,' Lucien murmured, 'it's good of you to do it.'

'Yeah, well,' Matthew hummed, 'he's the only one who can cook anything like decent food.'

They ate in almost silence, Lucien realised these three people were always there, on the edge of his existence, feeding him, picking up after him and never once had he said 'thank you'. Guilt washed over him, drying his mouth even as he tried to swallow the stew. He took a mouthful of water and watched his friends eat and drink.

'Um,' he cleared his throat, 'I should apologise, and thank you.'

'Yes, well...'

'No Matthew,' he found his voice, 'it's only now, after Alice has, er...put me straight, that I realise you three are always here. God knows why, and never once have I acknowledged it. So, I'm sorry, for everything.'

'It's not us you should apologise to, though, is it?' Matthew grunted.

'But I don't know where she is.' He put his knife and fork down with a clatter. 'I thought she'd go to Christopher's but he said he didn't let her. That made me angry, that he wasn't there for her, he's her son, at least he should have let her stay for a few days.'

'No, she went to someone who would listen, and not judge.'

'Who?'

'Mattie.' Charlie whispered, 'she's in London with Mattie.'

'Bloody hell,' Lucien whistled, 'how?' It was an expensive journey, and Jean, he knew, did not have much in the way of savings.

'She worked her passage.' Alice took the plates to the sink.

Charlie told him what Mattie had told him in her letter, after Jean had arrived, it was only then that the full story of her leaving had come out, the why and the how.

He leant back in his chair and ran his hand over his head.

'God, what a fool I am, what a bloody fool.'

'And then some,' Matthew noted.

'I asked her if she was ok, often, and she always said she was, tired was her usual answer, a bit bothered about the gossip, occasionally, but she never said it was that bad.' He put his head in his hands, 'Why were they like that to her? She has never said a mean thing about any of them, she's generous, kind, proud, sees the good in most...' He looked up, 'what do I do now?'

'Get a haircut, trim your beard, smarten yourself up, stop drinking, and then...' Matthew took out an envelope, 'then I'll give you this.'

'What is it?'

'Your plane tickets to London,'

'Really?'

'Don't worry, you can pay me back sometime.' He smirked, 'upset her and you needn't come back.' That was more than a threat.

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For a week Lucien did everything they told him. He began to feel better in himself, without the whisky as a prop, though he did suffer from the shakes for a few days.

Charlie kept Mattie up to date by phone, or telegram to the hospital where she worked.

'Good,' she whispered one evening, 'she's thinking of getting a work permit. Got to go to the Labour Exchange in two days.'

'Bugger, can you get her to postpone it or something?'

'No, but it's a bit of a process, so don't worry,' she shook her head even though he couldn't see her.

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Lucien had promised he would not drink on the planes, or the train, so he was as tightly wound as a watch spring when he finally arrived at Euston Station, where he had agreed to meet Mattie. Although tired from his travels he had done his best to present himself as an upright and sober citizen, using the public facilities to check his hair was neat and he wasn't too crumpled.

'Dr Blake,' a voice he recognised caused him to stiffen. He turned round and there was Mattie. Not much changed, but, oh so serious.

'Sister O'Brien,' he bowed his head courteously and held out his hand. 'You look well.'

'I am,' she took his hand, 'you look better than I expected.'

'I had help,' he admitted, 'Alice slammed me up against the sun room wall and gave me a well deserved dressing down, Charlie has fed me up and Matthew has hidden all the whisky.'

'Hm... I'd like to have seen Alice do what she did.'

'Believe me, Mattie, I never want to see that again.' He gave a half smile, not sure if he should look anything like happy.

'Well, Jean doesn't know you are the friend I am meeting.' Mattie turned and guided him out of the station to the taxis. 'I am going to stay in the Nurses' Home while you are here, you can have my room in the flat. I am not staying for dinner tonight, unless you both want me to, but I will call by every now and then. Jean...' She hailed a taxi and gave the address, '...Jean has a number she can call at the hospital if I am needed.'

'Right,' Lucien gulped, after Alice had read him the riot act Mattie was going to leave him with the woman who could tear him to shreds with one look! 'How is she?'

'Well, you'll find her thinner, quieter,' Mattie stared ahead, 'you're going to have to be very gentle with her, let her lead the way.' She turned and looked him straight in the eye, 'to be honest, when she told me what was going on I was ready to break your head, but let's be honest, she doesn't exactly tell you what's upsetting her; you are as bad as each other.' She sighed. 'I don't know what I'm going to do with either of you.'

Lucien smiled, only Mattie...

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As Mattie turned the key in the door she turned,

'Ready?' she whispered.

'Just about,' he nodded.

'Jean, only me!' Mattie called cheerfully, then regretted saying she wasn't staying for dinner, it smelt delicious.

'Dinner won't be long!' Jean called through.

'I brought my friend to meet you,' Mattie peered into the kitchen.

'Oh, there's enough if they want to stay.' Jean turned and smiled.

'I'd love to, if you don't mind,' Lucien appeared behind Mattie, looking down and turning his hat round by the brim. He wasn't smiling, in fact he was close to tears at the sight of the shadow of the woman he loved. Mattie had not been truthful when she said she was thinner, she also had circles round her eyes and the light had gone out.

'You!' she gasped, 'Mattie?' she turned.

'Jean,' Mattie held her hands up, 'it's ok, please, you have to listen to him, and he to you.' She took her aside and whispered, 'he's divorced, he'll tell you that story, he loves you and you told me you love him, so now, for once, talk.'

'Are you staying?'

'No, you don't need me, just don't throw too many pots.' Mattie kissed her cheek. 'I'll show you your room, Lucien,' she turned back to him, 'I'm at the home. Now...' she stood between them, 'talk, both of you, no secrets, or I shall come and bang your heads together.' She swept out dragging Lucien with her so Jean could regain some of her composure and she could show him where he was sleeping, the bathroom and living room. 'It's only a small flat, you can't avoid each other for ever.'

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Dinner was awkward, neither had any idea how to start a conversation. Lucien, in the end, knowing he had to say something, complimented her on the meal.

'Charlie does most of the cooking,' he told her, 'Matthew's moved into the guest room.'

'Oh, why?'

'Er... he said it was because staying in a hotel wasn't much fun, but I think it was so they could both look after me. Alice is there a lot too, though she doesn't stay over.' He looked up, shame-faced, 'they've all been looking out for me, not that I deserve it.'

'No, I don't suppose you do,' she sniffed. 'But then, I don't suppose I deserve Mattie's support either.'

'You deserve it more than I do.' He smiled, almost shyly.

'I ran away,' tears were not far off now, so she got up and took the dishes to the sink. he followed her, just like he always did.

'I should have listened.' He took up the tea towel.

'I didn't say anything.'

'Exactly, I should have listened to what you didn't say.'

She stared out of the window over a dark wintery London while she thought about that.

'Mattie said you are divorced.' She addressed her comment to the window, 'I thought... but then you were perfectly foul when you came back from seeing her so, I suppose I didn't know what to think.'

'We rowed, about everything, and nothing, about how she expected things would be the same as they were before the war, how she seemed to think it didn't matter that I had been told she was dead, or that I had a life and that I had changed. For her, she wanted to slip back into being my wife and going to parties and drinking cocktails with the likes of the Tyneman's, she didn't understand or want to, that that wasn't my life anymore and I didn't want it to be.' He sighed and paused, 'then she brought Alderton into it, how he would let her have that life. I told her to go to him then, if that was what she wanted and she let slip that she was already sleeping with him and that in China she had been seen as his consort. Him bringing her to Ballarat was only to get me back in the army. I demanded a divorce, she yelled that she would never give me a divorce, I said it wasn't up to her, I was going to divorce her for infidelity and she didn't have a leg to stand on.'

'Is that when he was killed?' She asked quietly, trying to understand when things had happened.

'Yes, I suppose I got so wrapped up in finding his killer I forgot about looking after you, and every time I asked you if you were alright, you said you were just a bit tired, or the gossip was a bit much.'

'I should have told you the truth, but...'

'You never like to worry me with the details, too bloody independent, Jean,' he smiled, 'and although I love that about you, sometimes it's not good for you,' he put the cloth down, 'or for me,' he added.

'Perhaps Mattie's right,' she dried her hands and took off her apron, 'we need to talk, no secrets.'

'No secrets,' he agreed.

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They talked long into the night over multiple cups of tea; Jean told him how she had stopped going to church on Sunday, had just sat by the lake until it was time to return to cook dinner. How nobody spoke politely to her, if they spoke at all, how people crossed the road to avoid her. He was horrified that Ballarat, who knew her even better than he did, should treat her that way. In the end, when Christopher told her it was her own fault she knew she would have to leave but she couldn't ask Lucien for a reference, he was too drunk most of the time, so she found a job that worked for her and took her away from the last man she would ever love.

He told her how Charlie, Matthew and Alice had worked to find out where she had gone, helped him through the divorce and through their letters and phone calls to Mattie had worked out how they could help the two of them. He told her how Alice had spoken to him that day in the sun room and she laughed to think of the pathologist lifting the bigger doctor off the floor by his shirt front and telling him exactly what they thought of him. Then he told how they had cleaned him up, sobered him up and sent him on his way with strict instructions not to drink or get into fights.

'Matthew said if I upset you, I wasn't to go back.'

'I always liked him,' she smiled.

'So, what do we do now?' he stretched his legs out looked at her.

'Well, doctor,' she yawned, 'I need some sleep, and so do you.' She stood up, 'I'll just wash these cups and then bid you goodnight.'

'I'll do the cups,' he stood and took them off her, 'I'll see you in the morning.'

'Goodnight, Lucien,' she smiled and touched his hand, 'thank you for coming after me, even if it was Matthew that sent you.'

'Goodnight, Jean,' he resisted the urge to kiss her cheek, 'sleep well.'

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Jean didn't sleep particularly well, but it was not the tears that kept her awake this time, it was what Lucien had told her. Perhaps they were both guilty of not looking properly at each other, or she would have seen how unhappy he was with Mei Lin and he would have understood, as he said, what she hadn't said. Being away from home, from all that distracted them would help, of that she was sure, and even though London was cold and dark at that time of year, perhaps they could find some light to follow in their lives. She vowed to give him the chance to be the man she knew he could be, before she made any decisions. She finally fell asleep just before dawn.

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Lucien, true to form, slept badly. He too wondered about being away from home, with Jean, but not with her. Together as friends, perhaps, he hoped, to start with. But he would have to listen to her, try to understand her when she was quiet about things that bothered her. He wanted to be the man she deserved but was not sure he could ever be that man, and that hurt him. He finally got a couple of hours sleep before getting up and heading to the kitchen to make some tea. He remembered Jean had not had any sherry the previous night, was that because he told her Matthew wouldn't let him drink. He went into the living room and looked around, yes, there was a bottle of sherry on the side, so she had not drunk because he wasn't drinking, or because Mattie didn't keep whisky in? He wondered if she was awake.

Pushing her room door slightly open he saw her, curled up, fast asleep. He smiled, the first proper smile for months. He pulled the door closed and decide he'd leave her, not wake her, not yet anyway.

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Her bladder insisted she get up, all the tea last night was taking its toll. She stumbled to the bathroom and blinked in the light. As she washed her hands she noticed Lucien was obviously up. His toiletries had been used, and, as usual, he had not put the towel straight in the rail. She splashed cool water on her face to waken her up and went to see if he had the kettle on.

He was not in the kitchen, there was a cup on the drainer and the kettle was warm. She topped it up and switched it on then went to see if he wanted a cup and some breakfast. He was not in the living room or his bedroom, though he had made the bed and his suitcase was still there, she was relieved to see. At least he hadn't left her. She shrugged her shoulders and assumed he had gone down to the newsagent or for an early morning stroll, though it was raining, again, and very cold. She was just sipping the tea when she heard the door go and the stamping of cold feet. She smiled and stood to get another cup.

He'd forgotten how cold England could be in the winter and even though it was only a short walk to the newsagent he was now frozen. More tea was called for, he thought. He hung his coat and hat up and pulled the paper out of his inside pocket. He turned into the kitchen, planning on taking Jean a cuppa and saw her there, sleepy, curls a mess, but utterly, utterly beautiful, and his heart skipped several beats. God, how he'd missed this sight, rare though it may have been.

'Good morning, Lucien,' she smiled, 'tea? You look frozen.'

'I am, and yes please.' He sat down, 'I thought I'd get a paper and see if there was anything interesting happening, you know something we could go and see.' He sipped the tea she passed to him, 'unless you've seen everything.'

'No, only the inside of the Labour Exchange, and that wasn't inspiring.' She watched his reaction and it was one of horror.

'The Labour Exchange?' He put the cup down, 'you weren't coming home, were you?' His eyes filled with tears.

'Do I have something to come home to, Lucien?' She asked softly, knowing the answer but wanting, needing, to hear it from him.

He reached over and took her hand, 'I was hoping you would come back with me, Jean.' He whispered, 'I want you to, but it has to be your decision.'

'I see,' she sat back, pulling her hand away. 'I hadn't thought what I would do, I just had to get away. Thoughts of going back were furthest from my mind. Why would I go back to that, to be shunned, talked about, sneered at? Can you make that stop, Lucien?'

'I can make no promises, Jean. Whatever we do people will always talk, because they are small minded and jealous.' He wasn't sure he could make a case for her going back, 'I will defend you, no one will speak ill of you in my presence, and if I hear of any sniping, if you tell me of any one saying horrible things to you then I will be there at your side, and I will speak my mind. We could, of course, live somewhere else. Start afresh.'

'I'd miss Matthew, and Charlie and Alice,' she smiled.

'So would I.' He reached over and took her hand again. 'I'd even miss Bill.'

She laughed a little at that, 'what about Patrick?'

'Ah, now, perhaps that's going a bit far.' He kissed her fingers, 'Jean, when it all happened, I was about to ask you something, I would like to ask you the same question, but, I don't know if you are ready, if it's the right time.'

'Hmm...' she hummed, tipping her head to one side. It was a question she had asked herself many times, 'I don't know when the right time would be, Lucien. I could say now is a bit soon, to wait might be seen as ridiculous, but after all that has gone on...'

'How about I take you to dinner at the end of the week?' he suggested, 'you know what I want to ask, you can think about it until then and...'

'I think that's a good idea.' She stood up, 'now, I am going to have my bath and get dressed.'

'Shall I make breakfast?' He reluctantly released her hand, 'I can manage bacon and egg.'

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For the rest of the week, Lucien spoiled Jean, and she let him. He started by buying her an impossibly soft and warm scarf, when he realised she didn't have one, and it went on from there. Flowers, trips to any exhibition she wanted to see, a trip to the theatre when she noticed a show that she wanted to see, lunches out, a trip to the cinema.

Mattie called one evening, towards the end of the week, to see how they were getting on, and to check the state of her pots. Jean was just finishing preparing dinner, not an easy task as Mattie sneaked a look in the kitchen to see the doctor standing behind her with his arms round her waist as she stirred something on the stove. He was nuzzling into her neck so she coughed politely. Lucien jumped back, Jean dropped the spoon and went pink.

'So, you hate each other, then.' She went to kiss Jean's cheek and hug Lucien.

'Can't stand him,' Jean agreed with a cheeky grin.

'So demanding,' he huffed good naturedly.

'Glad to hear it,' Mattie smiled at the two, relieved that they were, at the moment, getting on, well, more than that, it appeared.

'Staying for dinner?' Jean asked.

'No, it's ok, I just...'

'...wanted to see if I'd killed him?' Jean grinned.

Mattie laughed and picked up the spoon, '...or damaged him.'

'Come on, Mattie,' Lucien started to set an extra place, 'I bet you don't eat properly over at the hospital.'

'Well, not really...' she hummed, and really it did smell rather good.

'Sit down, you've lent us your flat, the least we can do is feed you.' Jean smiled and put the dishes on the table.

Mattie thought it was just like old times, without the case to discuss, but they both seemed completely at ease with each other and she noticed little 'looks' between the two.

Lucien sent the ladies into the living room to chat, while he did the washing up.

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'So, Jean, how is it, with you and Lucien?' Mattie kept her voice low, almost conspiratorially.

'It's fine, I think.' Jean admitted. 'It feels right, that we should be like this. He's been very gentle, considerate. He's taken me wherever I wanted to go and spoiled me rotten. Nothing is too much trouble.'

'But...' Mattie muttered, 'there is a but, isn't there?'

'I don't think so. We've talked, a lot. About what happened, what we didn't say that we should have said, and what we want, ultimately. I know what he wants to ask me, we have discussed that and I will give him my answer tomorrow night. He's taking me to dinner so until then we are 'courting' I suppose.' Jean looked at her for any thoughts she may have, 'we didn't really, before. We were just Jean and Lucien, sharing the house and being together, but we didn't date; and here it's easier, there's nobody to gossip or whisper.'

'Am I allowed in?' Lucien poked his head through the door.

'Of course you are,' Jean smiled, Mattie thought she lit up with love when she smiled at him.

They sat for a while Mattie and Jean with their sherry and Lucien with a whisky. Jean had suggested she buy a bottle for him and he could have a drink in the evening. They discussed what Jean and Lucien planned, as they had effectively thrown Mattie out of her flat, which she wasn't bothered about at all, but they thought that perhaps they should move to a hotel so she could move back in.

'Rubbish,' Mattie scoffed, 'you stay here as long as you want, as long as I can come to dinner occasionally.'

'Well, in that case,' Lucien raised his glass to her, 'we'll pay the rent while we're here, no arguments.'

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'You look lovely,' Lucien breathed as Jean joined him in the living room. She smiled, and turned full circle. She was wearing a green slim fitting dress, with a sash draped to the side. It was long sleeved and high necked, very simple, but perfect. He helped her into her coat and passed her, her gloves, before shrugging his own coat on and opening the door for her. Picking up his hat he closed the door and offered her his arm.

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They had chosen a quiet restaurant, nothing too fancy, just somewhere where they could have a nice meal and take the next step in their relationship. They were shown to a discreet table and ordered their meal. Lucien ordered a bottle of white wine, that perfectly complemented the dishes they ordered and as they ate they talked of their friends back home. More and more, over the week, Lucien had notice her refer to Ballarat, or at least Australia, as home again, and she would brighten when she talked of Matthew or Charlie or Alice.

They had finished their desserts and were thinking about coffee when Lucien took a deep breath.

'Jean,' he reached over and took her hand, noticing that she had taken her wedding ring off. Now when had she done that? Tonight, earlier in the week, when she arrived in England? 'Jean, it's been tough, lately, easier here, but tough over the last few months. I can't guarantee we won't have more tough times, never argue but I do love you and I need you, more than I thought I would ever need anyone. So,' he neatly slid off his chair and onto one knee, 'Jean Beazley, will you marry me?'

She looked down at him, and smiled. Such a silly man, and far too old for such sentimentality, or were they?

'Lucien, get up, of course I'll marry you.' She whispered.

He stood and leant over to kiss her, softly, and the restaurant burst into a round of applause. Jean blushed, grateful for the low lighting, and giggled.

Lucien put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a little box. Opening it he took out an emerald and diamond engagement ring and slipped it onto her finger.

'Lucien!' she gasped, 'when...? It's beautiful.'

'When you shooed me away to go and buy the dress you're wearing.' He grinned, 'I brought mother's with me, just in case I needed to size another.'

'How did you know that would fit?' she held her hand out to admire the ring.

'I had it resized from Christopher's ring, the week before...'

'I see,' she smiled, 'thank you.'

A polite cough interrupted them, 'Sir, compliments of the house, and congratulations,' the waiter placed two glasses on the table and filled them with Champagne.

'Thank you,' they took a glass each, 'to us.'

'To us.'

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I feel the need to take them home.

Reviews and comments most welcome.