1944 October
The Allied advances continued slowly, with the Japanese fiercely contesting each island, each nautical mile, each patch of ground. Losses were heavy on both sides, but there were notable Allied victories in India, in Burma, in the Philippines. As word of these victories spread through the camps, morale improved among the prisoners. How much longer would it be before they were freed?
The guards were on edge, growing grimmer as the prisoners brightened. Food rations were cut back, from barely enough to live on to less than that. It was rumoured that the Japanese frontline troops required the extra food to keep fighting.
In the women's camp, many of the mothers had little choice but to share a portion of their own inadequate supplies to supplement that of their children, and the nuns also insisted that the children get some of theirs. The produce from Jean's garden became vital to the lives of all. She wondered what might lay beyond the fence that could help them survive, often consulting Christopher's survival manual and thinking of the possibilities just out of reach. If only she had the courage...
Colonel Suga, who had probably had little say over the ration cutbacks, seemed eager to continue his image rehabilitation. He announced that all internees would be allowed to send a postcard to let family know that they were being "well-treated" by their captors. Most took advantage of the opportunity, if only to broadcast that they were still alive.
Since her conversation with Lucien, Jean had more or less decided that Ballarat would be their destination when they were liberated. Best contact her sister, then, let her know. Mary had always been the practical type, so she might be able to help Jean find a way to support herself and the boys there.
She inscribed Mary's address in the designated space, reflecting yet again on their parents' lack of imagination in names. Jean Mary and Mary Jean. How ordinary, compared to something like 'Lucien', she thought.
She struggled for some time about what to put in the message area. Such a small space for all that she needed to say. She was certain the guards would censor anything about the location or the poor condition of those in the camps. She might better stick to family matters. Like Jean herself, Mary was a widow with two small children.
Dear Mary,
I hope that you and the children are well. I pray that someday soon my boys will have a chance to play with Danny and Amy in your garden once more while we trade recipes and mend their clothes. Please tell the Tynemans that Patrick, Susan and Edward are in the camp too, and let Dr. Blake know his son Lucien is here as well.
Much love to all of you,
Jean, Christopher Jr, and Jack
There, that should assure Mary they were still alive, and maybe remind her of some of Jean's skills that could be useful to an employer. Perhaps a job as a housekeeper somewhere? She wondered if the Tynemans would return to Ballarat after the war. Patrick had always been kind to her and the boys, although she wondered how Susan would feel about having Jean (who had seen her at her worst) being in her home every day. If nothing better presented itself, she supposed she could always get something in one of Patrick's father's many enterprises.
Luckily Lucien would have no such difficulty, she knew, even after he left the Army and found his daughter. As a doctor, he could set up a practice anywhere and be welcomed into the community, or go to work in any hospital. Jean wondered if he had a specialty, thinking what a wonderful children's doctor he would be, or perhaps an obstetrician bringing babies into the world.
She shook herself out of her daydreams. There was work to do, especially now with the shortage of food. She handed over her completed postcard and headed out to tend to the garden.
Lucien stared at the blank postcard for quite some time. He supposed he needed to send it to his father, but pondered how to break the ice after so many years of silence. But he had told Jean he would meet up with her in Ballarat after the war ended, so this would have to be the first step toward making that happen.
Most likely his father wasn't aware of the death of Mei Lin, who had been the point of contention in that last, bitter argument between them, nor did he know about the very existence of sweet little Li. But this postcard was hardly the appropriate vehicle to deliver news about either of them. No, this should be a 'simple' reconnection of son to father. The rest could wait.
Dear Father,
I don't know what word you've had of me, but I'm very much alive as a guest of the Japanese Imperial Army. When the hostilities end, I have some duties to see to, but then I would very much like to visit you. I hope we can reach a measure of peace between us. There are some others from Ballarat here, the Tynemans and the Beazleys. Jean Beazley has been very kind to me, so any kindness you can do for her when she returns would be most appreciated.
Your son,
Lucien Blake
He had seen that Jean worried about her future and how she might support herself and the boys. He hoped a good word on her behalf from his father might ease her path somewhat.
He reread what he had written, decided it said all he needed to convey, and placed it in the fast-growing pile of completed cards. He then looked to see which of the men might be struggling over the task. There were a few he suspected of being functionally illiterate, but their families surely were just as anxious as those of the other men. He went to help, noticing that Henry and a few others were assisting as well. He really had some remarkable men under his command. He would have to be sure they were recognized officially once the war ended.
When the post arrived, Danny Parks brought it inside to put on the kitchen table for his mother. As he walked into the kitchen, he spotted his sister Amy snitching biscuits from the tin. "I'm going to tell mum," he threatened.
"What are you, a copper?" Amy demanded, her eyes blazing with defiance.
"Maybe I will be when I grow up," Danny said breezily. He enjoyed winding up his sister, even if she was such an easy target.
"You probably will. You're such a little...". She broke off when their mother entered the room.
"The post is here," Danny told her.
"I see. Thank you, sweetheart." Mary kissed the top of his blond head, then began sorting through the envelopes and other items.
When she first spotted the postcard, she wondered who could have sent it. No one went on holiday since the war began. Then she recognized her sister's handwriting. With a gasp, she sank into a chair. The government had informed her that Jean and her boys had most likely been taken prisoner when Borneo fell. This confirmed that at least they were still alive.
She read it through twice, while Amy and Danny watched with trepidation.
"It's from your Auntie Jean," she told them.
"Is she all right?" asked Amy.
"What about Chris and Jack?" Danny wanted to know.
"She says they're all okay. When the war is over, they'll come home."
"For good?" Amy asked. She liked Auntie Jean.
"I can't tell for sure, but most likely," said Mary.
"Then I can play with Chris and Jack again," Danny said.
"Yes, she says she wants to see that," said Mary. "She says Mr. and Mrs. Tyneman and Edward are there too."
"Huh. I don't want to play with Edward," Danny said firmly. "He's mean."
"I don't think you need to worry about that," Mary assured him. Surely Susan Tyneman wouldn't let her little prince associate with the likes of the Parks and Beazley children in any case. Nevertheless, Mary felt obligated to carry out her sister's request to notify Michael and Roslyn Tyneman, and also Doctor Blake.
"All right, you lot, faces and hands washed, hair combed. We're going into town," she announced.
She found the elder Mr. Tyneman somewhat intimidating, but Mrs. Tyneman was quite a pleasant woman. Roslyn had come from somewhat humble circumstances, marrying Micheal before he began his rapid ascent within the ranks of local businessmen. Mary thought she would call on Mrs. Tyneman at home, assuming they hadn't yet moved into the imposing new estate house Michael was building outside of town. Then she would continue on to Doctor Blake's residence on Mycroft Avenue. At least she had been there before - he had treated Danny when her son had managed to break his arm falling out of a tree. She thought the man somewhat stern, not given much to smiling but not unkind.
As they approached the Tyneman home, Mary looked at her children, particularly Amy. "Best behaviour," she reminded them. "Don't touch anything."
Danny smirked at his sister knowingly while she just rolled her eyes.
Mrs. Tyneman answered the door herself, looking startled to see them but quickly covering it.
"Hello, Mrs. Parks," she greeted them. "How is everyone today?"
"Fine, thank you for asking. I'm sorry to bother you, but I've just had a card from my sister and she asked me to relay a message."
"Oh, yes, she was in Borneo, too, wasn't she? I just received word from Patrick as well. Heavily censored so I couldn't make out much of what he was trying to say."
"Jean asked me to let you and Mr. Tyneman know that Patrick, Susan and Edward are there in the same camp with her."
"Thank the Lord they are all still alive," said Mrs. Tyneman, looking genuinely relieved. Whatever Patrick had been trying to tell her had obviously not been enough to reassure her. "Your sister and her children are all right?"
"So it seems. Thank you for asking," said Mary.
"No, Mrs. Parks, thank you for letting me know about my son's family. Of course, we won't stop worrying until they're all safely home, will we? Would you all like to come in for tea?"
Mary didn't think it was a good idea to let her children wander around the Tynemans' delicate and very expensive antiques. "Maybe another time, thank you," she said. "We have another call to make."
"At least let me get some biscuits for the children to take with them. Fresh out of the oven."
"That would be lovely," said Mary, making a mental note to check their faces for rogue crumbs before they saw Doctor Blake.
Thomas Blake had just shown out his final surgery patient of the day and walked toward the kitchen, hoping his elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Trent, had remembered to put the kettle on for his tea. As he passed through, he saw her studying the post that apparently had just arrived. She seemed to be reading a card so intently that she hadn't heard him approach. He sighed. It was past time he replaced her, but with the war on, any women willing to work outside the home preferred the higher-paying factory jobs. Maybe when the war ended and the soldiers returned to take those factory jobs he could find someone more competent than Mrs. Trent.
He sighed. Thoughts of the war inevitably turned to Lucien. He prayed for his son each night, prayed that he was safe and hoping he might come home when it was over. If only he had held his tongue about Lucien's choice to marry the Chinese girl. He had only wanted to spare the boy the kind of heartache he'd felt when his own father cut him off for marrying his beloved Gèneviève, but instead he'd mimicked his father's very words. So many mistakes he'd made with Lucien. Would he ever have the chance to make amends for any of them or had he already lost him, in body as well as in heart?
Clearing his throat, he held out a hand. With a furtive, guilty look on her face, Mrs. Trent handed over the pile of envelopes, cards and catalogues. "Thank you," he said, trying not to sound too disapproving.
"I'll just see to your tea," she replied, shuffling toward the kitchen.
Thomas began leafing through the stack, mostly related to his practice. His heart leapt into his throat, though, when he saw the card from Lucien. Thank God he's still alive, was his first, heartfelt reaction. The Army had notified him that Lucien was missing and presumed captured after the fall of Singapore. He could barely imagine his willful and free-spirited son as a prisoner or war.
Dropping the rest of the post, he read the card hungrily for any news of the boy. It seemed that whatever he'd been through, Lucien was now almost as anxious as Thomas to mend the rift between them. He would welcome him home with open arms, his wife as well, if she were with him. It concerned Thomas, though, that Lucien had not mentioned his wife. Had they been separated by the war? Perhaps that was one of the 'duties' he needed to see to before he could come home.
He continued reading the card. He should make sure Michael Tyneman knew that his son's family was safe. And Jean Beazley. Trust Lucien to befriend a young woman even in the most dire circumstances. He tried to recall who she was. Ah, yes, Jean Randall, who had married Jack Beazley's younger son, since deceased. A pretty girl, and quite smart, as he remembered. Lucien's taste in women had certainly improved since the time he'd nearly proposed to the bitter, self-centered Monika Parker.
Whatever their relationship, Thomas would be happy to help out Jean Beazley if he could. He supposed any act of kindness in such a place deserved to be respected.
Mrs. Trent had just informed him that his tea was ready when there was a knock at the front door. "I'll get it," he called out, still holding Lucien's card in his hand. It was precious to him now, in its promise of a chance at reconciliation.
He opened the door, recognizing Mrs. Parks. If he recalled correctly, she was Jean Beazley's sister. Coincidence?
"Mrs. Parks, good afternoon. What can I do for you?"
"Good afternoon, Doctor. I won't keep you."
"Quite all right. Why don't you and the little ones come in? You look like you could do with some tea and biscuits."
"That's very kind of you, Doctor, thank you."
When they were all seated in the kitchen with their tea, and Mrs. Trent hovering nearby (both ears wide open, presumably), Thomas said once again, "Now what can I do for you?"
"I've heard from my sister, Jean. Jean Beazley," Mary began.
Thomas smiled at her. "As it turns out, I've just heard from my son Lucien, too. It seems the two of them know each other."
"Yes, it seems so," Mary agreed. "I'm happy you've heard from your son. Jean wanted to be sure you knew that he was alive."
"Lucien mentioned that she was very kind, and apparently he's quite right. Thank you for your trouble, Mrs. Parks."
"No trouble at all, Doctor. I was so relieved to hear from Jean that I didn't want anyone else to worry needlessly about their loved ones. I've just been to see Mrs. Tyneman, too."
"Then you've saved me a trip," said Thomas. "Thank you. If I hear anything further from Lucien or anyone else about your sister, I'll be sure to pass it along to you. And, Mrs. Parks, when your sister returns home, and I'm quite sure she will, please ask her to stop by to see me, if you would."
Author's note: I'm sorry there isn't more of Jean and Lucien in this chapter, but I needed to set the stage for some future occurences. Much more of them in the next one, I promise.
