Alice couldn't remember the last time she had been in Sydney, well perhaps 'couldn't' wasn't quite the word, 'didn't want to' described it more accurately. She'd left the city for another, where she was anonymous, where she could study Classics and medicine without being constantly told she was useless, that she should be finding a job that would lead to meeting the right sort of man and marriage. Then to raising her own brood and eventually caring for her parents as they aged. No, Sydney didn't harbour happy memories, but ... here she was, summoned by a solicitor's letter about her sister. When she told Lucien she didn't know where her sister was it was true, in as much as she didn't know if she had stayed in Sydney or moved away - it seemed she'd stayed. She wondered if her parents were still alive, she didn't want to meet them if they were, if she could avoid it. She rubbed her upper arm as the memory of too many pinches and punches crept into the back of her mind.

She deposited her small suitcase at a hotel, freshened up and headed out to the solicitor's office.

"Dr Harvey to see James Charterson," she handed over the letter she had received.

"Of course," the young receptionist smiled, "please, take a seat," she waved at some chairs near a small table with magazines tidily laid out. Alice thought of Jean's waiting room, momentarily. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to take up Jean's offer to join her on the trip as moral support. But she was a grown woman, educated ... surely she could handle a solicitor on her own. She sighed.

The door opened and a middle-aged man appeared. He was smartly dressed in morning dress, with a wing collar to his shirt. His hair was thick and wavy, held in place by some gentleman's hair care product, no doubt.

"Dr Harvey," he smiled and she was pleased to hear he used her professional title, "do come in."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They sat opposite each other in the room, facing each other over a heavy, dark wood desk, upon which sat a brass desk lamp, ornate inkstand and green leather blotter. There were papers on the desk, one of which Charterson picked up and scanned before putting it back down, leaning on his elbows and tapping his fingers together.

"It's very nice to finally meet you, Doctor," he sighed, "you took some finding."

"Really, I didn't realise I was missing," she hummed.

"Hm," he smiled at the comment, "well, to some you were, namely your sister, Phillipa and your parents."

"My parents?" her heart sank, "we were - estranged."

"So I believe," he waved a letter, "but your sister expressly asked us to find you - in her will."

"Her will!"

"I'm sorry, Dr Harvey, Phillipa died six weeks ago; it's taken us that long to find you."

"How? Why?"

"Phillipa caught pneumonia, following a particularly bad bout of influenza, she died in hospital." He watched for a reaction.

"I didn't know she was still in Sydney," Alice took a deep breath, "when I left, for university, we lost contact. I didn't get any replies to letters I sent her, but she was still living at home at the time ..." she let the insinuation hang, that her parents had intercepted the letters and stopped Pip, as she called her, writing back.

"She left you one, to be read when we found you." He handed over a small envelope.

"How did you find me?"

"Phillipa said you trained as a doctor so we thought the best way was to ask the hospitals in each state. She thought you might be in a city one, more anonymous, she thought you'd try to keep out of the limelight, as she put it."

Alice didn't have an answer for that because it was true until she went to Ballarat and was pushed out of her comfort zone: crime scenes when Lucien wasn't available, court cases when she had led the autopsy ...

"I take it her funeral has been held," she didn't open the letter, hoping to read it in private.

"I'm afraid so, though I can tell you where she is buried, should you wish to visit; but this isn't about her funeral, Phillipa left you something, something that may surprise you."

"What about family?" Alice drew her brows together, "did she marry, had she children?"

"Phillipa had children, yes, two; her husband - well - you see," this was the hard part, "he left her."

"Oh ... why?"

"Erm ..." he flushed, he was not used to speaking about people negatively, "well, apparently your mother never approved, he wasn't good enough for her ..."

Alice rolled her eyes, "What did he do?"

"He was a police officer," Charterson leant back in his chair, "but apparently as he was only an Inspector ..."

"That's not a low rank," she interrupted.

"Quite, and he is well thought of, too; anyway he couldn't take any more of the constant put downs, it's all in Phillipa's letter, so he left."

"And ... what about Pip and the children?"

"He said that as long as your mother was alive he wanted nothing to do with her, he ... he left the city and when we found him he wanted nothing to do with the children, either. Said your mother had ruined his relationship with them as well."

"Where are the children now?" the fog was beginning to clear and Alice thought she saw where this was heading - Pip had left her her children.

"At the moment, with their grandparents," he sat forward, "frankly ... may I speak frankly Dr Harvey?"

She nodded and swallowed.

"Frankly, doctor, when I saw them for the reading of the will the children looked relieved ... that you should be their guardian."

"They don't know me!"

"No, but they know their grandmother ..."

"Mr Charterson, I am a working woman, I live in a one bedroomed bungalow ..." she didn't add that children, a family, was firmly off her agenda.

"Dr Harvey, I am not in the habit of commenting on anyone's parenting skills, but your mother ... I nearly had the children taken to a place of safety, and if you don't take them back to Ballarat I will do so."

He watched Alice work things over in her mind. Phillipa had told him that their mother was particularly cruel to her sister and hadn't blamed her for leaving as soon as she could, but she had to think of her children and the last people she wanted looking after them were Mr and Mrs Robert Harvey.

"Your sister left you everything she had, there is nothing for your mother and father; her house is up for sale and you will receive the proceeds from that, to raise the children, though perhaps you could put it towards a larger home ..."

'At least three bedrooms,' Alice thought. "I suppose this is a rescue, isn't it? Of the children?"

"Rather," he nodded. He passed her a photograph, "the boy is David, he's ten years old, the girl is Suzanne, she's just six."

Alice drew her finger over the faces; she presumed David favoured his father and Suzanne, the double of Phillipa when she was around the same age. She wished more than ever that Jean was with her, she would know precisely what to do - she was a mother.

"I have arranged a meeting," he folded the paperwork.

Alice raised her eyebrows.

"Don't worry, I shan't send you into the lion's den alone ..."

"Mr Charterson, you seem to have known my sister rather well, from the comments you have said, and you always refer to her by her given name, Phillipa," Alice stood up.

"I've known Phillipa for many years, Dr Harvey, we were friends, once upon a time I thought we could be more but ... " he shrugged, "it was not to be."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The taxi pulled up outside the all too familiar house. Still tidy, clean lined - appearance mattered to Mrs Harvey, outward appearance; what went on behind closed doors was nobody else's business.

Alice took a deep, calming breath and followed Mr Charterson up the neat, straight brick path. He used the perfectly shining brass knocker to announce his presence and stood back.

There was a shriek and then the door was opened. The woman standing there was thin, pinch faced; her hair was tightly permed and iron grey, her clothes were stiffly formal - a plain, straight tweed skirt, short sleeved fine knit jumper and matching cardigan, and a single strand of pearls. The whole ensemble was in a pale fawn.

"So you've come?" she sneered.

"I was summoned," Alice huffed.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Harvey," Mr Charterson raised his hat and smiled a professional smile that did not reach his eyes, "I have brought Alice to meet her nephew and niece."

Mrs Harvey stood aside to let them enter and closed the door firmly.

"Parlour?" the solicitor asked, but went straight through without waiting for an answer. Alice was rather glad he was there.

Mrs Harvey didn't ask them to sit, or offer tea she just sniffed and disappeared up the stairs, calling for David and Suzanne, though she shouted, "Boy, girl, get down here, now!"

There was a thundering of feet from somewhere upstairs.

"Stop running in the house!"

Alice rolled her eyes.

The door was pushed open and two children stood there wide-eyed and breathless. Mrs Harvey came up behind them and slapped David across the back of his head. "What have I told you?!"

David winced and flinched but didn't answer, it would only earn him another slap. Suzanne cowered next to him.

"Children, I have brought your Aunt Alice to meet you," Mr Charterson made a mental note that if Alice didn't immediately remove these children from this place he would do so himself.

Alice noted how small, petite, the girl was, with fair hair tied in a tight, probably painful, pony tail. She looked a bit thin, she thought, perhaps her grandmother had stinted on the meals, it wouldn't surprise her she'd never been particularly generous. Alice had put her own late maturity down to the lack of nutrition.

Suzanne looked her up and down and then, like a bullet from a gun, shot forward and wrapped her thin arms round Alice's hips and clung on tight. Alice was not used to being hugged by children, by Matthew Lawson, yes (please), Lucien and Jean, but not by a child. She looked down and slowly patted the child's back. Suzanne looked up and gave her a gap toothed smile, Alice remembered she was at the age of loosing baby teeth. Something caught her eye, on the child's arm; she touched it, as if trying to wipe off a mark. It was a pinch bruise.

"Pack your things," she drew herself up, "you're coming with me." She looked across at David, "go on. You are not staying here a moment longer."

David took his sister by the hand and lead her quickly out of the room.

"You pinch her," Alice stepped up close to her mother, "you slap him for running, god knows what else you do to them."

"Hm," tight-lipped, arms folded, Mrs Harvey had nothing to say to her elder daughter.

"Mr Charterson," she turned to the solicitor, "have the required paperwork drawn up for my guardianship of the children, please ..."

"You, caring for children, pah!" Mrs Harvey sneered.

"I may not know much about children, mother, but I do know what not to do, you taught me that much," Alice glared at her. In truth she had no idea what she was going to do, but for now, try to get them into the hotel then on the train back to Ballarat, after that, maybe Jean would help her. Asking for help never came easy to Alice but this time she needed to swallow her pride.

David and his sister stood in the hall, a small suitcase each at their feet, Suzanne clutched a battered soft toy close to her chest.

"Coats?" Alice looked at the hall stand, nothing had changed in this house. David reached across for two slightly shabby garments.

"Mum was going to buy us new," he murmured apologetically, seeing his aunt was rather smartly dressed.

"Then we shall do that as soon as we can," she smiled and helped Suzanne fasten her buttons as she had got them out of line.

There were no goodbyes, fond or otherwise. Alice, Mr Charterson and the children walked down the path without a backwards glance and got into the taxi.

"The paperwork just needs signing, Dr Harvey," the solicitor gave the address of the hotel, "I shall bring it round this evening if that will suit?"

"It will indeed, thank you."

"Are you a doctor, Aunt Alice?" David asked, noticing how Mr Charterson addressed her.

"Yes, I am," she nodded.

"Mum said you were the clever one," he gave a little smile, as if testing the relationship.

"She was the pretty one," Alice hummed.

"I think you're pretty," Suzanne lisped, the absence of two front teeth having that effect on her speech.

"That's kind of you to say so," Alice ventured another smile, "you look a lot like your mum when she was your age."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The hotel managed to find a room for the children to share that night and Alice felt, on balance, it was probably better they share. She imagined nightmares, bad dreams and wakefulness at the least. They dined in the hotel dining room and Alice was relieved to see the children had good table manners, ate their food, not leaving a scrap but were astonished that they should be allowed dessert. If her memory served, her mother did not approve of children eating sweet desserts so this was indeed a treat. She suggested something light, fruit and ice cream, perhaps? Oh yes, that would do nicely, both children grinned.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

David helped her run their baths, seeing the temperature was right and she washed Suzanne's hair for her. As she was not keen on anyone touching her hair or head she was gentle, Suzanne said it was much nicer than grandmother, grandmother pulled; Alice remembered.

Settling the children in bed but not going as far as a kiss goodnight she went down to the lounge to meet the solicitor and sign the paperwork. He kindly bought her a much needed whisky and they had a short discussion as to what services she needed from him. Mainly to see to the sale of the house and transfer of funds to her bank account, the details of which she handed him.

"I am not worried about the finances," she admitted, "I have a good position in Ballarat and no one to spend my salary on but myself. The children will have, I hope, a good life, I will see they are educated and kept safe."

She sipped her drink.

"If there is one thing my parents taught me, Mr Charterson, it's how not to treat a child."

"Quite, but from Suzanne's reaction you could have been Satan incarnate and she would happily have taken your hand and walked out of that house."

Alice laughed at the very idea that Suzanne was so desperate to leave her grandparents, but maybe he had a point. As she had washed her hair she had seen more pinch bruises and soreness on her upper thighs, possibly urine burns from bed wetting. She had resolved not to punish her for that transgression, Jean would help her sort that out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello, Alice, how's Sydney?" Matthew sat in the study at Mycroft Avenue to take the call. He'd not expected her to phone just arrive back the following day and tell him as much as she wanted.

"Huh," she breathed, "difficult."

"Care to elaborate, or do you want to wait until you come home?" He had plans for her homecoming that didn't involve one of Jean's home cooked dinners.

"My sister has died, Matthew," now the tears started and she couldn't stop them, so she told him everything interspersed with hiccups and sniffs. "What do I do? I'm not a mother, I don't know the first thing about raising children, but I couldn't leave them there. The solicitor was going to take them to a 'place of safety', whatever that means."

"Probably a foster home, or orphanage," he grumbled, "I'm so sorry love, I wish I was there with you."

"So do I. Matthew, I only have the one bedroom ... where will they sleep?"

"Hang on minute, I have an idea," he put the receiver down on the desk and went to find his landlady. She was in the living room with her husband and he didn't care about interrupting them.

"No problem, Matthew," Jean stood up and smoothed down her skirt when he explained Alice's dilemma, "they can stay here, and Alice of course, until she finds a suitable house."

"Jean, it's a cheek I know and she'll be horrified I've asked ..." Matthew blushed.

"Tosh," Jean smiled, "the children can have the rooms upstairs, what were Mattie's and Charlie's ... I shall turn a blind eye to Alice's sleeping arrangements."

"Jean!" he hissed.

Jean just tapped the side of her nose and winked.

Matthew blushed and made a hasty retreat back into the study.

"All sorted, Alice," he smiled, "Jean says you can stay here, the kiddies can have upstairs and she says you're to make your own arrangements."

"Matthew!"

"Yeah, well, she's not daft and if you only have one bedroom and I don't always come back of an evening ..."

In her room in the hotel Alice felt embarrassed but suddenly less lonely.

"Thank you, Matthew, will you meet us off the train?"

"Of course, how will you explain me to them?"

"I'll think of something, it's a long journey."

"Will you break in Melbourne?"

"Yes, an overnight stop," she sighed, "the connection is not good."

"Right, I'll see you there."

"Matthew!"

"I'll see to a hotel and meet you off the train there, you've enough to do."

She was too tired to argue so she let him do what he would, at least the children would meet their new family in two steps.