Author's Note: I apologize that this chapter is so short, but strangely, it was the most difficult for me to write so far. As much as I love these characters, I still feel like I don't handle romance very well. And once again, thank you to all who've taken the time to comment. I want to recognize all the guests in particular, since I can't thank you personally.
Jean heard Suga's announcement and immediately looked toward the soldiers' camp, trying to catch the eye of Lucien Blake. He looked toward her as well, smiling, before he turned to address his troops.
"Many of the women have husbands and boyfriends in the civilian men's camp," he reminded them. "I know you're all going to respect that, aren't you?" he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Sir."
"Good. Unless you know one of the ladies," he looked at Morris, "I expect you to let the civilians go first. If any women are then unattached, you can speak with them. With courtesy."
Some of the men weren't particularly happy, not having spoken with a women in two years or more, but they accepted his direction. Fisticuffs over the women only meant this would never be allowed again.
When the guards finally opened the gates, many of the women rushed out. Jean noted that Susan Tyneman was among the first outside, hurrying to see her husband Patrick, who looked quite unwell. Both he and son Edward had lost a great deal of weight, as had Susan herself, for that matter.
She saw Evelyn meet up with a rather small man with thinning dark hair. Harry, she assumed.
"Let's go out, Mum," Jack said tugging on her hand. The guards were stationed well back, allowing the boy to not feel threatened by them.
Christopher took her other hand, and between them she was steered in the direction of the soldiers' camp. Lucien was already moving toward them.
He too had looked to see Morris meet up with his Evy, a woman who looked entirely humourless. There was no accounting for taste, he thought. But there, waiting for him, was the entirely lovely Mrs. Beazley with her two sons.
He stopped directly opposite them, the trench in between. "Mrs. Beazley, Christopher, Jack," he said, nodding to them. "How is everyone?"
"We're fine now," Jean said, smiling brightly.
"I hurt my finger playing soccer," Jack announced, holding it up for the doctor's inspection.
"Well, we can't have that," said Lucien. "It isn't broken, is it? That would mean no soccer for a while. Can you move it?"
Jack nodded and demonstrated. "It's not broken. I can still play."
"That's good. I watched you play, and it looked like your side needs you." He turned to Christopher. "And what about you, young man? All good with you?"
"Yes, sir," said Christopher, looking up at his mother for verification.
Jean put her arm around his shoulders. "He's always a wonderful help for me, and a good brother to Jack." Sometimes spending so much time watching over us that I worry about him if we ever get released from here, Jean thought.
She studied the doctor now that she could see him up close for the first time since his ordeal. "How are you, Doctor?" she asked.
"Please, call me Lucien," he said, hoping she felt comfortable enough with him to do so. "I'm much better, thank you."
"That's good to hear, Lucien," she said, smiling at the way such a small intimacy made her feel. "And I'm Jean."
"Well, Jean, I want you to know just how much your singing meant to me while I was...". He nodded in the direction of the hole in the ground. "Every time I thought I might lose heart and give up, I knew I still had something to look forward to each day: your lovely voice."
Jean blushed. Such heartfelt praise was rare and always embarrassed her. "After how kind you've been to us, I thought it was the least I could do."
"It was a great deal, may well have saved my life," he insisted, but seeing he was embarrassing her, he did not continue.
"Bingo was my idea," Jack piped up. "It's my favourite song."
"You know, it's become one of mine, too," Lucien told the boy, remembering what it meant when he heard it. "What about you, Christopher?"
"I like a lot of songs when Mum sings them," said Christopher.
Jean rested a hand on her older son's shoulder. "Over the Rainbow was his choice," she told Lucien.
"Another fine song," Lucien agreed.
He and Jean gazed at each other, both wanting to say more, but the presence of the boys made it difficult.
Their dilemma was solved a moment later when Eve Neville came by, rounding up the children for a soccer match to show off their skills. Jean knew exactly why she was really doing it: to give their parents a bit of privacy. "Bless you," she whispered to Eve, who only smiled back at her.
Jean and Lucien stood so they could see the children playing but also look at each other.
"Have you heard any news about the war?" Jean asked, after casting around for an opening comment.
"I have, yes," said Lucien. "The Allies recently won an important sea battle and are slowly working their way in our direction, but it will still be a while before they can reach us. Several months at least."
"What about Australia? Did it fall to the Japanese?" asked Jean, thinking in particular of her sister's family there.
"No, it was never invaded. In fact, Victoria was never even bombed," Lucien assured her. "I think the Japanese commanders realized their supply lines were already stretched too thin to go any farther." He paused. "Will you go back home, back to Ballarat, when we're finally liberated?"
Jean sighed. "To tell you the truth, I haven't thought that far ahead. I suppose so. There's nothing for me in Borneo now, but there isn't much in Ballarat either, aside from my sister and her children. What about you?"
"I'm regular Army, so I'll have to follow orders, but my top priority will be to locate my daughter. She's about Jack's age, and I have no idea where she is." Tears rose up in his eyes at the thought of his darling girl and all the things that could have happened to her.
"Yes, of course," said Jean, her heart aching for him. "I can hardly imagine how difficult that must be for you."
"Yes, and once I find her and I'm free of the Army, well, I haven't thought that far ahead either. We make quite a pair, don't we?"
"We do," said Jean, and they shared a smile. "Now that it looks like we will actually be liberated sooner or later, though, I guess it's time to start thinking about what comes after. You don't plan to go back home and see your father?"
Lucien blinked. "You know my father?"
"I know of him," said Jean.
"Yes, of course. I'm afraid my father and I had a falling out several years ago. We haven't really communicated since then."
"But surely now, after this," she waved a hand around her to indicate the prison compound, "your differences, whatever they were... well they can't seem that important."
Lucien smiled softly at her. Jean, with that generous spirit of hers, might find it difficult to understand a man who could send his only son off on his own at such a young age and in such a fragile state, but then again, maybe the war might have changed his father too. "Perhaps you're right," he told her. "Once I find my daughter, maybe I'll introduce her to her grandfather."
"Do consider it," Jean urged him. "For all of your sakes."
"If you'll consider going back there, too. I'm sure your sister is concerned for you as well," said Lucien. He grinned. "Maybe we could even meet up in good old Ballarat. I could take you out for dinner."
"The good people of Ballarat would be scandalized if the doctor's son was seen stepping out with the farmer's daughter," Jean pointed out. She could just hear the gossip.
He borrowed her own words. "Surely after this," he swept his hand around them, "those differences can't seem that important."
She laughed. "You haven't spent much time in Ballarat, have you?" She nodded toward the Tynemans, thinking what Susan would say about it.
"Well, they can all go to blazes then," he told her. "I would be proud to be seen out with you, Jean Beazley." He gazed into her eyes, marveling at their beauty and the spirit behind them.
"Well, I suppose it'll give us something to look forward to, if we ever get out of here," said Jean.
"You mean, when we get out of here," Lucien corrected. "It won't be soon, but I'm convinced it will happen."
"All right, then, when we get out of here, it's a date," said Jean.
Lucien continued to gaze at her, smiling, and she gazed back, just as entranced.
Remembering himself and where they were, he finally looked away, glancing instead to where the children were playing. He pointed to get Jean's attention, just as Christopher squeezed between two defenders and sent the "ball" directly to Jack in front of the goal for an easy score.
"Bravo!" he shouted to them. "Well done!"
It made Jean extremely happy to see how much he seemed to take to the boys. She prayed he could be reunited with his daughter quickly when the war ended. She was sure he was a wonderful father.
All too soon, the guards announced that everyone must return to their own camps.
Hurriedly, Lucien said, "Could we meet some night, beyond the fence, just to talk a little more?"
Jean longed to agree to to his request, but wasn't sure she could brave her fears of being attacked again. "I don't... I'm afraid I..."
He understood at once. "I'm sorry, of course. Let me think about it, all right? See if I can come up with something that will put your fears to rest."
She could only nod. She did want to talk with him some more. Much more.
And then she was collecting the boys while he rounded up his men.
They both glanced over their shoulders to exchange one final look before going inside.