I thought I should update this story, I got sidelined with others that came into my head - enjoy.
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Jean stood in the doorway to the garage and sighed. There was electricity, a single, naked bulb hung in the centre of the ceiling shining it's harsh light on the dust, the bits of wood, things kept 'just in case'; which never happened; a box of tools that Lucien would have no idea what to do with and a chair with three legs.
"Well," she hummed to herself, "all this can go."
She wondered if the water pipe to the outside tap could be used to provide plumbing for a loo, and a sink. A little kitchen area would be useful, across the back of the room, with a hob to boil a kettle, cupboards for the cups and saucers, plates and biscuit and cake tins. Or perhaps, if they put in more plug sockets, they wouldn't need a hob, they could use an urn, a water boiler, it could be used to fill the sink as well, if they just had a cold tap.
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Lucien surveyed the empty garage, it looked bigger than he remembered it. Jean had had it cleared all the better to see what they could do with the space. A builder had agreed that more plug sockets and taps and boilers could be fitted. It would be a lot of work but worth it in the end, he had smiled.
"Don't worry, Mrs Blake," he had pushed his pencil behind his ear, "it will work and, I can offer a discount, your husband has been very kind to my wife."
"I don't expect discount for that, Mr Castle," she gasped, "a fair days pay ..."
"I know you don't that's why you will get it," he stepped to the side as Amelia came out of the house.
"Gran'ma," she tugged the hem of Jean's skirt, "James is awake."
"Alright, sweetie," she stroked the child's head, "I'll come in, he's probably ready for another bottle."
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As she fed James she discussed the ultimate goal with Mr Castle.
"It's just that we need a space to hold the mother and baby group that's not in the house," she sighed, "it seems to have gone from strength to strength."
"Some of my other clients have mentioned it," he nodded, "we hope to be able to make use of it, soon."
"I'm so glad," she put James to her shoulder, "if anyone deserves to be a mother she does."
Anne Castle had struggled to go to term with a pregnancy, it was Lucien who had set in place a way for her to keep the baby she carried until it was strong enough to survive outside of the womb. She was now in her seventh month and, although staying in bed, with the foot end raised was trying, she and her husband took every day as it came, and looked forward to the day they would hold their child in their arms.
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Jean did a preliminary sketch of what she thought the garage should look like when it was done. Mattie had some ideas, about what they should keep in there, toys, of course, books, maybe a radio.
"As I do some consultations during the group sessions perhaps I could have a corner, a screen, scales ..." she tipped her head and waited for Jean to comment, "maybe I could move the baby clinic in there, free up the study."
"I suppose so," Jean paused in her preparation of the potatoes, "it would mean it got more use than just once a week, and your mothers could sit in comfort and their other children could play without getting under the feet of Lucien's patients."
"Worth having it done then," Mattie lifted Julia onto her lap.
"Quite, in fact," Jean had had another thought, "it's big enough to have one end sectioned off properly, just for you. Then your consultations would be a bit more private."
"Hang on, Jean," she gasped, "that means more expense."
"We'll see."
Mattie knew better than to argue with Jean, especially after a 'we'll see'.
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Ted was fascinated with the goings on in the garage. He would drop his school bag in the hall and go and see how far things had got while he was in school each day. Jean had told him to stay out of the way of the workmen, she didn't want him hurt but Len Castle would take him aside each day, as his team headed home and explain what they had done that day and what they planned to do the following day. He showed him the joints in the pipe-work, how a socket was wired in and how he was going to make a room for Nurse Mattie.
"Where will the toys be stored, Mr Castle?" he asked, "will we still have the basket?"
"Well, lad," he put his hand on Ted's shoulder, "that's up to your mum, but we are putting some cupboards in, so maybe they will go in there."
"Oh, right," Ted nodded, this was a good idea, he thought.
Jean smiled, Len was going to make a wonderful father, she knew, and, boy or girl, he would let it look and 'help' just as he did with Ted.
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All that was left was the painting and decorating, then the garage would be an extension to Dr Blake's consulting rooms. This was going to be a joint effort. Lucien, Matthew, Arthur and Michael were going to paint, Jean, Mattie and Alice were going to babysit and make large quantities of tea or coffee.
"Can I paint too, dad?" Ted asked at breakfast that morning, "please, I want to help."
Lucien looked at Jean for help, the thought of having a seven year old wielding a paintbrush loaded with pale blue emulsion scared him. Jean thought emulsion would be better than gloss, easier to get out of his hair, she grinned.
"I er," his father scratched his head, Jean just rolled her eyes, "I suppose so, you'll get very messy."
Jean thought of the two, Lucien would get messier.
Jean was right. Ted had a good sized paintbrush and he painted slowly but carefully the lower part of the wall in Mattie's new office, in fact he stayed remarkable clean. He had been given his own tray of paint so he wouldn't be trailing drops of paint over the floor which had been laid with wood, sanded and varnished. Rugs were stored in the house for the sitting area and the op shop was holding chairs and a couch for seating.
Jean stood in the door holding a tray of cups and smirked. Ted was telling his father off for splashing paint over Matthew.
"Aunty Alice has to clean that, you know," he huffed, "you're supposed the paint the walls, dad, that's what mum said."
"Don't worry, Ted," Matthew laughed, "this is an old shirt, it can be thrown away when we've done here."
"Don't you have to paint the baby's room," Jean reminded him, "in the new house."
"Huh, oh yes," he blushed, "we wondered if you lot would return the favour?"
"Capital idea," Lucien clapped him on the back with a loaded brush.
"Dad!"
"Oops, sorry mate," he apologised to his friend.
He and Alice had come to the conclusion that raising a baby in a one bedroom bungalow was not going to be easy or practical and had bought another nearer to the Blake's. Alice assured Jean it was not for babysitting purposes.
"It's just that it's the right size, three bedrooms ..."
"Planning on more, Alice?" Jean teased.
" ... no!" her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, "then we didn't plan this one," she shrugged, "this was in our price range and the only thing that needs doing is the baby's room, the other can be a guest room."
"Have you sold the other one?"
"Yes," she nodded, "a teacher, from St Patrick's apparently."
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"Gran'ma," Amelia leant her elbows on the coffee table as Jean gave James a bottle, she was going to start weaning him, he was ready for it, "can me an' Julia see the garage, what gran'pa's done, an' Ted?"
"Yes, of course sweetheart," Jean smiled, "why don't you ask Nurse Mattie or Aunty Alice to show you. Stay out of grandpa's way, in case he splashes you with paint, though."
"Ok," she ran off to find someone brave enough to go near Lucien with a paintbrush. As luck would have it, it was Alice who was not currently engaged in a particular chore and she took the girls by the hand to see what was happening.
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It was all looking quite fresh and bright, Alice thought. Michael had taken time to paint on the door to Mattie's room, 'Nurse O'Brien, Ante natal and baby clinic'. The lettering was beautifully arranged, with her name on the top line and underneath it all a picture of a baby on a balance scale. He was quite the artist, she thought and wondered if he would take a commission for her, when they knew what they were having. He finished the last highlight on the scales and stood back to survey his handiwork.
"Very nice, Michael," she called across, "Mattie will be very pleased."
"She just asked me to paint the words but I thought ..." he blushed, "d'ye think she'll mind?" he whispered.
"Not in the least," Alice smiled, "I think she'll be rather touched. And, I've just had a thought, do you take commissions?"
"I've never done it before, why?"
"Well, I thought it would be nice to have something on the wall, for our little one, when he, or she, comes along," she tried to gauge his feelings on this, "I've seen transfers but ... they are all very much in the order of teddies or trains."
"What were you thinking of?"
"Not sure, yet," she admitted, "can I let you know, or if you come up with an original idea ..."
"Well, alright," he hummed, "what is the background colour?"
"Pale yellow, almost cream," she told him, "neutral."
"Right," he cleared his throat, "well, got to do the toy cupboards, Ted wants trains and cars on one, Amelia," he looked down at the two little girls standing watching the others paint, "Julia, what would you like me to paint on the cupboards?"
"Dollies," Amelia smiled, "pretty dollies."
"Then I shall have to make them like you," he smiled, "Julia, do want something painted on the toy cupboard door."
At two years old Julia was not sure what he was asking. He squatted down in front of her, "I'm going to paint pictures on that cupboard, there, where the toys will be, what do you think I should do ... teddies, bunnies?"
She nodded enthusiastically and Michael realised he had just made himself more work. So much more work that dinner was ready before he finished, and he said he would pop back the following day to add any little touches.
"Michael," Mattie went to tell him dinner was ready and Lucien and Matthew were cleaned of all the paint they were wearing, "Jean says dinner's ready. Oh!" She looked across at her door, "oh, goodness, Michael, that's lovely. Thank you. All I wanted was my name and the clinic, that's a gorgeous little touch."
He shrugged and blushed, he really was taken with the young nurse.
"I see you have done the toy cupboards as well," she turned, "Ted didn't want much, did he?"
"Or the girls," he pointed with his brush, "just got to do a few details tomorrow."
"Be careful, you'll find yourself with commissions," she teased.
"Yeah, well," he coughed, "Dr Lawson has asked me to do something for the baby's room, at their new house."
"Oh, starting high then," she laughed, "come on, you've earned dinner."
It did not go unnoticed, by Jean, that the young couple entered the kitchen arm in arm, laughing at something.
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"Are you going to have a grand opening, love?" Lucien nibbled her ear as they lay in bed, "cut the ribbon, speeches?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Lucien," she giggled, "it's only the garage."
"What about a piece in the Courier?" his hand snaked under her nightdress.
She squeaked as his fingers found her nipple and tweaked it, "No!"
He stopped.
"No to the Courier," she raised an eyebrow, "but ..."
He took that as permission to continue his exploration of the now familiar, but still entrancing, landscape of her body. All thoughts of the garage and opening ceremonies and ribbons were forgotten as Lucien relieved her of the hindrance that was her nightdress, and proceeded to make love to her, with his usual, but completely satisfying, thoroughness.
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Alice groaned and opened an eye. Baby Lawson was playing football with her bladder, again. Turning to look at the bedside clock; four o'clock; she heaved herself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for the third time that night. Lucien was right, stopping work was a good idea, she got so little sleep she didn't think she would be able to focus through the microscope or wield a scalpel safely.
Matthew watched her through one eye and sighed. For the most part she seemed to take everything in her stride, but he still worried about her, especially while he was at work. He was glad they were close enough for her to walk round to Jean and the little ones, though it was the one thing they had really argued about. He wanted to drive her round there, she insisted on walking, the exercise would do her good.
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"I'll just gain far too much weight," she faced him in the kitchen, "which is not good for me or the baby."
"But what if something happens?" he stood his ground.
"Like what?" she folded her arms.
"What if you started off?"
"Between here and Jean's is not far enough for me to drop it on the roadside," she huffed, "please Matthew, I know what I'm doing."
"You have never done this before, I have!" he snapped.
"I'm a doctor!" she threw back.
"You don't do babies, you do dead people!" he shot back.
"You're suffocating me!" she pushed passed him and stormed out of the house, angry at him and herself. It was true it was uncharted territory, for her, but she was coping, to a point. It was only when he started getting over protective, which she had at first found endearing, then frustrating and now downright suffocating, that she struggled. She understood he still hurt over Peg, but she wasn't Peg, she was Alice. Her doctor had assured both of them she was fit and healthy and he didn't think she would have any trouble when she had the baby.
She had stomped round to Jean who seemed to be the only one who really understood. Jean had had two boys, worked on a farm before and after and seemed to have come out of it alright.
Jean had made tea, passed James over to her and listened. She had made no judgment on Matthew's behaviour beyond saying she would have a word with Lucien, to have a word with him.
Cradling James or reading to the girls was soothing, calmed her and she found herself there more than she was at home, even when Matthew had a day off.
Lucien had used one of these days to speak to his friend.
"Give her some space, Matthew," he sat him down with a whisky. "You're putting her blood pressure up. Alice is strong and healthy and has never had any issues in that area."
"But, Peg ..." Matthew stared into his glass.
"That was then," Lucien soothed him, "we have made some advances since then."
"Would you know if she had heart problems?"
"Yes, but she hasn't. She hasn't fainted, or had blackouts," he leant on the desk, "if it wasn't for the bump nobody would know she was pregnant. Now, you are spoiling it for her, and for yourself, these are the last few weeks that you will just be a couple. Soon there will be someone else who needs you, who will rely on you for everything. Take Alice out for the evening, to the theatre, for a meal; other than here; a walk round the lake, make her feel special not a burden. She loves you Matthew, she must do to put up with your grumpiness and the way you are wrapping her in cotton wool, but she will walk, if you're not careful."
Lucien wasn't sure that Alice would leave him, but if it stopped him cosseting a remarkable woman then he would put that thought in his mind. It would kill Matthew to lose Alice either by her going or dying but at the rate he was going, Lucien wouldn't blame her.
And so Matthew had done his best to take a step back. The sight of her hospital bag, in the corner of the bedroom, was enough to remind him of Lucien's words so he had taken her to the theatre, she had, after all, mentioned that Oscar Wilde was one of her favourite playwrights and 'Lady Windermere's Fan' was being performed in Melbourne. They had taken the weekend, booked into a hotel and relaxed, as much as Matthew could, but Alice had. She had enjoyed the play, refused to let her aching feet bother her, he could massage them later, and they had had a pleasant light supper afterwards.
"See," Lucien had remarked the following week in the office, "nothing to worry about."
"Hmm..." Matthew grunted and glared.
Lucien laughed and shook his head, he'd never change.
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Alice knew she should tell him, but she was going to be hours yet. She waved him off to work and tidied up the kitchen before lifting the bag from the bedroom floor and heading down to the Blake's.
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"Alice?" Jean eyed the bag.
"Matthew doesn't know," she gasped, "I don't want him hovering and worrying until it's absolutely necessary." She stepped inside and Jean took the bag off her and put it by the coat stand.
"Lucien is in his room," she smiled, "no patients, go and see him."
"Thank you," she headed down the corridor, stopping to speak to Amelia and Julia and admire Amelia's picture.
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Lucien looked up and smiled, "to what do I owe this ..." he stopped as she gasped and rubbed her belly, "ah, I see." He stood up and guided her to the couch.
"Let's have a look and see how things are going, shall we?"
Alice raised an eyebrow at his slightly patronising tone and heaved herself up.
After a thorough, but gentle, examination Lucien told he she was some way off so there was no rush to get her down to the hospital.
"Thank you," she redressed and went to sit in the chair, "do you think Amelia will be alright if I stay here?"
"She can't avoid pregnant women all the time," he smiled understanding she wanted to protect the child from the memories, "she seems to have coped so far."
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Jean kept an eye on the clock, subtly timing Alice's contractions, and kept the girls occupied with toys and outdoor play. When it came time to collect Ted from school she took the children with her, putting James in the pram and telling Lucien that Alice's contractions appeared to be really setting in and were about five to seven minutes apart.
"I'll see how far off she is," he kissed her cheek, "if we're not here when you get back I've taken her down."
"Right, she seems to have managed through the day," Jean smiled, "her bag is by the coats."
"Right oh," he grinned.
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"Are you sure?" Alice stood by the car door, gripping it as a wave of pain hit her.
"I am," he tossed her bag on the back seat of the Holden, "you will have to defer to me in this, for a change," he winked. She smiled back and nodded.
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Danny answered the phone in the station office and nodded then smiled, "ok."
"Boss," he turned to Matthew, "doc says I've to drive you over to the hospital."
"What!" he leapt up and grabbed his stick, "come on then, what're you waiting for."
"He said there was no rush," Danny fastened his jacket, "plenty of time yet. Just thought you should know," he continued as Matthew stumped out of the room, grumbling about bloody independent women, "before he got too busy and forgot to ring you."
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"No!" Sister put a hand on his chest, "you are not going in, Superintendant."
"That's my wife!"
"I am quite aware of that," she hissed, "could you keep your voice down, please. Now, take a seat and wait, she is in very good hands." She huffed and strode away.
Danny brought him tea, but it remained un-drunk, he paced up and down the corridor, stopping outside her room and trying to look in, but they had put something over the window to stop him. He started every time he heard her shout and glared every time Danny suggest he sit down.
The door opened, Lucien appeared a small bundle in his arms and a huge grin on his face.
"Congratulations, Superintendant," he held out the bundle, "a boy."
"Alice?" he gulped taking the child in his arms.
"Absolutely fine," Lucien assured him, leading him to a chair, "the nurses are just making her comfortable then you can go in."
Matthew looked down at his son and noted the shock of dark hair standing up on his head.
"Hello, son," he whispered.
"Does he have a name?" Lucien sat next to him.
"Er... we're still thinking," he couldn't take his eyes of this thing he and Alice had created, "though she's probably decided."
"Doctor, Superintendant," a nurse poked her head out of the room, "Mrs Lawson is ready to see you now."
"Mrs Lawson?!" Matthew raised his eyebrows, "don't let her hear you call her that."
"Oh, but ... gosh, I'm sorry," she blushed, surely, she wore a wedding ring ... was it for show.
"It's Dr Lawson," Lucien smiled and patted her arm.
She relaxed immediately, "oh, right, well," she pulled herself upright, "you can go in."
"Thank you, nurse," Lucien stood back to let Matthew go in and assure himself that his wife was perfectly well though he was convinced Matthew had no idea it was three o'clock in the morning, just gone.
Alice looked across and smiled. Matthew looked more exhausted than she felt, in fact she felt strangely exhilarated, to have achieved this - but she wasn't doing it again! At her age, once was quite enough. She held out her arms for her son and Matthew made it across the room in double quick time.
"Alice, he's amazing," he breathed, "are you alright?"
"Fine, thank you, darling," she cradled the baby, "ugly, isn't he?"
"Alice!" Matthew gasped, "he's our son, he's the most beautiful baby in Australia!"
She burst out laughing, which disturbed the little miracle and he turned instinctively to her breast.
"Just like your father," she huffed, and cleared his way to his first meal.
"So, Alice," Lucien picked up the chart, Matthew glared at him, he should leave the room when Alice was in such a state of undress, "Matthew says you haven't settled on a name for him, yet." He ignored the glare.
"Robert Thomas Lucien Lawson," she whispered, stroking the surprisingly thick hair, no wonder she'd had indigestion, well that was what they said.
"Oh," Lucien hummed.
"Told you she'd have decided," Mathew grunted.
"We both like Robert, Matthew kept going on about your father, how he was easier to work with, and I wanted Lucien, to sort of say thank you," Alice blushed.
"I'm truly touched, Alice," Lucien smiled, genuinely honoured, "now, when he's had his fill, nurse will take him to the nursery and I am going to take your husband home for a nap."
"I'm staying right here," Matthew harrumphed.
"Not at three in the morning, you're not," Lucien yawned back.
"What, really?"
"Really."
"Lucien," Alice looked up, "do you think you could persuade the midwife to let me have a crib here for him, I'd like to keep him by me," somehow she didn't wanted to be parted from him, for a second.
"You won't get much sleep," he sat on the edge of the bed.
"They'll only wake me when he's ready for his next feed, I'd like him to wake me," she blushed, not normally given to sentimentality.
"I'll give it a go," he shrugged, "wondering if he was that persuasive, but he thought he understood.
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"I think it would be better for Dr Lawson," Lucien stood in front of the Sister in Charge of the nursery, "I know her well, she is a colleague, she isn't given to sentimentality. I would hate for her to become upset, distressed at being separated from her baby." He knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but not even Alice Lawson nee Harvey was immune to the baby blues.
"We will take him up for his feeds," she huffed, she didn't like men telling her what to do, even if they were doctors.
"Well, this will save you the bother," he smiled, "you have quite a crowd in here." He waved his hand at the sea of babies in cribs, lined up like books on a bookshelf. Maybe Alice had something, this seemed rather impersonal, babies need their mothers, he thought, not just a plastic box to sleep in, wrapped in a blue or pink blanket depending on gender.
He watched her think it over, they were busy, it was true, but for a baby to stay by its mother's side, she supposed it would happen if it had been a home birth.
"Alright, Dr Blake," she finally huffed, "but you can take the crib and spare nappies."
"Thank you, Sister," he reached out and shook her hand, "I'm sure Dr Lawson will be most grateful."
"Hmm ..." she grunted.
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Alice had just finished feeding Robert, Bobby to his parents, when Lucien knocked on the door. She looked up and called him in and gasped.
"What did you say?"
"Well, they're rather busy down there," he pushed the crib to her bedside, "I said it would save them the bother of bringing him up to you."
"I was going to suggest I just go home," she passed Bobby to his father who lay him down in the crib before he dropped him in surprise.
"Oh no you don't" Lucien laughed, "you are staying in for a week, it's the rules, Mrs Lawson," he teased, "ones you are not going to sidestep. Do you want to give Matthew a heart attack?!"
She smirked but nodded her agreement, "a week, not a moment longer, I hate hospitals."
"You're a doctor," he reminded her.
"Precisely, I know what goes on here."
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There was much excitement in the Blake household. When the children woke up later that morning they were all told that Aunty Alice had had a baby boy and that they were both well. Ted wanted to go and see her, but, as his mother reminded him, he had to go to school.
"Anyway, darling," she combed his hair, "I'm afraid children aren't allowed to visit people in hospital."
"That's not fair," he sniffed, "what if Aunty Alice wants visitors."
"Uncle Matthew is going to go in, and when she goes home, I'm sure you will be allowed to visit," she smiled, nothing was going to stop Ted checking that Aunty Alice was ok.
"I'd better let Michael know," Mattie sipped her tea, "he's supposed to be painting on the wall in the baby's bedroom. Perhaps, if Matthew will let him, he should do it before Alice brings ...?"
"Robert ..." Jean pushed a plate of bacon and eggs towards her, "Bobby, I believe he will be known as."
"...Bobby home," she finished.
"Oh, well, yes," Jean mused, "I suppose it would be nice for it to be done when she gets out of hospital."
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Matthew had agreed to give Michael the key, and agreed to let him have free reign on what he painted.
"Though," he stuffed his hands in his pockets, "you are an art historian, lad, why are you painting pictures on children's walls?"
"Well," Michael thought about this. True his love of art, all art, had set him on a path to learn all he could about the history of art, try to prove he was worthy of working for the MFAA but he rather liked giving pleasure with his little paintings, the ones on the toy cupboards, the little sketch on Mattie's door, "Mattie's office door was the start of it, and it's not too difficult, though if I went into it as a fully commercial enterprise there would be things like copyright to deal with." He passed Matthew a sketch, "things like this, painted for a fee, well ..."
"But we are going to pay you," Matthew blustered, worried he was part of a case of fraud.
"Don't worry, it's a private arrangement," Michael smiled, "do you think it's ok?"
"She'll love it," and for once Matthew was sure he was right.
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Alice had never been so glad to leave a hospital as she was the day Lucien finally allowed her home, with Bobby. She had had plenty of visitors, her sister had come over to see her, struck at how natural Alice looked nursing her baby.
Jean managed to sneak away from the house, leaving her girls and James with Mattie one afternoon, and then later in the week when Lucien took the afternoon to play with the children.
Matthew took Bobby off her as she got out of the car and looked at the front of the house, their house. It was clean, the garden was weed free and the grass had been cut, the tubs either side of the door were tidy and the door furniture was shining. She was sure Jean had a hand in all of that.
She took her baby back into her arms and let Matthew lift her case and unlock the door.
The hall had a fresh bouquet of flowers in a vase by the phone, there was a pile of letters and cards for her to look at when she had settled Bobby in his pram and in the kitchen a tray was set for tea.
"I don't suppose Michael got round to painting the bedroom?" Alice smiled at the flowers, the little touches that welcomed her home.
"He did," Matthew indicated she precede him to Bobby's room.
The door was closed, with 'Bobby' painted on the strip between the panels. Very simple and understated, which she thought was just right.
Matthew pushed to door open and stood back, ready to catch the baby.
She gasped, and bit her lip against unbidden tears - Lucien said it was her hormones.
"Oh my ..." she breathed, "it's perfect."
In the corner Michael had painted a tree, underneath which was a log. Seated on the log was Piglet, and next to him was a question: 'How do you spell love?" Facing him was the Bear of Very Little Brain, and under him was the answer: 'You don't spell it, you feel it.'