This story picks up right where my story New Partners leaves off in the epilogue. This story makes references to New Partners and my fic City of Light, City of Love. It is not necessary to read those stories to enjoy this one but it may help with information and small details I have added. Enjoy.
Jean makes her way into the sunroom to gather the bulbs for planting after enjoying a peaceful cup of tea. The week since putting Christopher on the train a cold rain falls daily matching her mood. Sending her son off to a foreign land of unrest fills her with worry that nearly makes her physically ill, despite Christopher's insistence that he will be safe. Jean knows how quickly life can change, how safety and security can be a ruse. She distracts herself with council business and settling Ruby and Amelia into her home, the weather allowing little else.
Jean's little partner insists on sharing the large bed in the studio with her grandmother despite the discussions prior to moving that she is to sleep in her own room. Amelia loves her Nana's old room, redone just for her but it is lacking her grandmother that she most admires. The first night Amelia slips into her bed long after she should be asleep. Jean welcomes the comfort of the child, whispering just for tonight Poppet.
Of course Jean realizes the error in doing this after several nights of tears and sleeplessness follow. Ruby's constant fighting with child and apologizing for her daughter's behavior is nearly as exhausting as the child's tantrums and need for her grandmother. It all came to a head the night before when Jean scolds both the Beazley girls.
"That is enough you two! Amelia Jean, you stop arguing with your mother now. Go up stairs to your room and stay there all night. We are done discussing this. March!"
Amelia's blue eyes lock with Jean's in defiance, the child finally relinquishing defeat. "Yes, Nana."
Jean turns to her daughter in law, who is wearing a look of disbelief at her child's retreat. "Ruby, I know you and I haven't always agreed but you need to stop arguing with your daughter or this situation is not going to work. Go get a good night's sleep and tomorrow take her to get registered for school. You both need something to occupy your time."
She sends her family off after a hearty breakfast into a beautiful sun filled day. Jean packs the girls a picnic lunch when she makes Matthew and Peter's ensuring herself a few hours alone. Her life once again is taking a new, unexpected direction but this morning she just wants some time in her garden to center herself once again for what lies ahead.
Jean walks the garden edge spacing the bulbs so that come spring there will be color scattered throughout; wanting to make sure she has enough to cover the area before planting. She turns to allow the sun to warm her face, breathing deeply the scent of the earth around her. This has been her place from the moment she moved to the house and saw the neglected gardens, the potential of the land. She pauses a moment at the big rock Jack moved for her, thinking of the sunny morning Lucien teasingly placed it amongst her flowers. Her heart fills, smiling at the memory of her dear husband's playfulness. A few hours later she was kissing him good-bye before he boarded a flight to Sydney.
Three bulbs left, she decides to clump them together to fill in the spot that last week the rock still occupied. Jean kneels down, the ground cool despite the warm sun. She begins digging with her spade when she catches a glimpse of something shiny. Not sure what could be reflecting the sunlight she continues to dig until she hits something hard. "What on earth?" The tool is set aside as Jean swipes away the dirt with her hand, revealing the top of a small metal box.
Jean begins digging frantically at the ground surrounding the box. She can feel the tears well in her eyes, her heart beating so hard that her chest aches. Only one person would bury a metal box in her garden. She removes her gloves in a fury to get better leverage to lift it out of the damp earth. When it finally breaks free, Jean sits back on the ground clasping it close to her chest, trembling with fear at what it may contain. Breathing deeply Jean calms herself enough to start thinking rationally. Whatever is in this, Lucien put it in the ground before he left. Calm yourself, could be nothing more than an experiment.
Between her shaking hands and the dirt caked in it, she struggles to unlatch the lid. The metal finally gives way with a such force that it springs the lid open revealing the contents at once; a key and a sealed envelope. A moment of disappointment fills her at the lack of contents to be buried away for her to find. She holds up the key, squinting to try and recognize it but unable to place it. Turning the envelope over she sees it is addressed to her, simply stating Jean, in Lucien's distinct handwriting that is known to her so well.
She stares at her name for a long time before getting the courage to open the envelope. The first thing she notes is the date. The day before he left for the fateful trip to Sydney. The first words take her breath away. She can hear Lucien's voice whispering them in her ear My Dearest Jean.
"Jean, there you are? I've been trying to reach you for over an hour. Haven't you heard the phone ringing?" Alice makes her way to her friend in the garden. "Jean, what are you doing sitting on the damp ground?" Alice halts as she looks down at Jean covered in dirt, the evidence of tears on her face. "What is it?"
Jean's hand, shaking uncontrollably, holds out a piece of paper to Alice, her dear confidant the past year. Lucien found great humor in their friendship, the ladies have little in common except for the fact that they are both kind, strong, intelligent woman. "It's from Lucien."
Alice's disbelief is clear in her face. Taking the letter, she sits down next to Jean and begins to read aloud the words he wrote to his wife.
My Dearest Jean, April 2, 1963
If you are reading this it means I have been gone longer than I ever intended. I am hoping I will be home long before you ever discover this. Unfortunately, I know all too well how the government and the Secret Service work so I am breaking every rule by writing this letter to you but you deserve to know the truth. Firstly, whatever you have been told is a lie, contrived by very powerful people. Secondly, believe me, I never wanted to be involved in this again. You and our life together is more than enough for me. I have no choice but to do this. I need to keep you and our family safe. Trust no one but the few we hold closest to us. I have enclosed a key that can be used across the street from our favorite cafe in Melbourne. Remember the wonderful times in Paris. Someday we will tour the city once again visiting the friends we made. I will dream of home and you until I can hold you once again.
All my love forever and always,
Your Lucien
"Oh God, Alice. I should have found this last year. What have I done?" Jean loses every last bit of control of her emotions with the proximity of her friend and hearing Lucien's words read aloud. Alice cradles Jean allowing her to cry on her shoulder. Alice's own tears rising at the realization that Lucien may be alive somewhere trying to get home.
The doctor's mind is reeling with questions but she finds it difficult to voice them all. "Jean, do you understand what Lucien is telling you?"
Jean pulls away from Alice's shoulder and nods. She swallows hard, trust the few we hold closest. Yes, Alice is most definitely a trusted friend that can be counted on to help. "After the war, Lucien worked for the Secret Service in intelligence."
"A spy? I had no idea." Jean notices a hint of hurt in Alice's face that Lucien kept the secret from her.
"No one knows, Alice, not even Matthew though I suspect he has an idea of what Lucien did because of the trouble with Alderton."
"But you knew."
"Yes, yes I knew. He first mentioned it to me when the Soviet spy was murdered in the park. Before we were married he told me a bit more. It was while we were in Paris that I learned most of what I know. Things happened, memories and people from the past. He didn't want to keep secrets from me but he couldn't tell me everything. Every now and then he would tell me things. It gave him comfort to be able to finally talk about some of the things he saw and did. But he would also get afraid that I knew too much or at least certain people may think I knew too much."
"Pillow talk? In the letter he says to remember Paris."
"Oh Alice. Lucien would never tell me anything or do anything to put me in danger. You know that! If anything he would give his life for mine!" Jean abruptly stands, the metal box which still houses the key falling to the ground, the panic rising in her. "I think I'm going to be ill."
In the distance they hear the unmistakable chatter of Amelia heading towards the house. The women's eyes lock. "Come on. Let's get you in your room. Clean you up. They don't need to see you like this." Alice gathers the box, placing the letter along with the key inside.
Through the sunroom and kitchen Alice pulls Jean along. At the door they hear Ruby and Amelia talking about how exciting going to school will be. Alice thrusts the box into Jean arms and pushes her towards the studio. "Go! I'll take care of them."
Jean turns to give a thanks but Alice is already making her way down the hall. She hears Alice speaking but can't make out the words. Grateful that her friend is taking charge if only for a little while to allow her to think. Think of what happens next.
In the bedroom Jean catches her reflection in the mirror. No wonder Alice sent me to clean up. She places the box down that she has unconsciously been clingy to and begins peeling off her filthy clothes. Once in the shower with the steam rising she allows herself another good cry for all the what ifs before absolving herself of things that were out of her control.
Jean wraps Lucien's robe around herself, sitting on the bed reading through the letter again this time with a clearer mind. There are so few words written and yet she knows that there must be more meaning in them. I can do this Lucien. I'll bring you home.
She holds up the key, finally taking a good look at it. It is too small to be a door key, maybe it is to a lock or a safety deposit box. Frustration takes hold, "What favorite cafe Lucien? We don't have a favorite in Melbourne!" She says aloud as she slams her fist in a pillow. Think Jean!
She lays down looking at her husband's side of the bed. Breathing deeply to clear her thoughts, she closes her eyes. The heaviness of exhaustion starts taking hold of her body when her eyes pop open. Focusing on Lucien's pillow as she speaks to the void, "Adelaide! Of course, it's Adelaide."
"Adelaide! Are you sure Jean? The letter says Melbourne."
Jean emerges from the en-suite having put the finishing touches on her face so nothing looks amiss to her waiting family. "I'm positive. The only cafe Lucien ever called our favorite is in Adelaide. Remember when I went there after Amelia was born?"
"Yes. Lucien took a vacation there at the same time." Alice's sometimes innocence in matters of the heart endear her more to Jean.
"Alice, he didn't just vacation there. He followed me or rather literally chased down the bus after me." She smiles at the memory. "We had a lot to talk about, to figure out. We would meet at this little cafe that is near the hotel Lucien stayed at. It became our favorite and every time we visited Adelaide we would go there. And Alice, across the street is a bank." Jean holds up the key. "It has to be it."
"So, are you just going to take off for Adelaide?"
"No. Yes. Well not yet. I have to make some calls first. Figure some things out first." She picks up the phone receiver, then slowly puts it back. "I can't call from here."
"You have more privacy here than anywhere else. Amelia is seeking you out as we speak."
"No, I mean I can't call from this house." Jean looks around the studio. The fear that she has spoken too much aloud gripping her. What if the house is bugged? She is sure that her phone lines are and probably have been for sometime.
"Jean, you don't think."
"You know what Alice? You are probably right. I have this all wrong. It's all so confusing. What I need to do is make a nice dinner for everybody." As Jean speaks, Alice watches her take a pad of paper out of the vanity. Jean quickly scribbles something down. She hands the scrap of paper to Alice as she walks past towards the door. "Matthew and Peter should be home soon."
"Right. I'll help with the veg." Alice reads the note. Garden now!
"Jean what is all this about?" Alice asks once outside.
"I'm sure the phone lines are tapped but Alice the house may be bugged also and if it is I may have already said too much." Jean brow furrow, deep in thought as she thinks of what to do. "We can't discuss this in the house until I know for sure." She pauses, closing her eyes before speaking again. "I need to call someone in Paris." She says to herself as much as to her friend.
"Who?"
"A friend, please don't ask more Alice. Not until I know more, understand better what is happening."
"You want to use my phone?" Jean's head shakes before Alice can finish. "You don't think my phone also?"
Head still shaking, "I just don't know. It's no secret that you are a good friend of Lucien and myself. I need to think."
"Nana!" The child's voice makes both women spin to see the innocent face bounding towards them. "Here you are. Guess what?" Amelia runs up to her grandmother, leaping into her arms.
"What?" Jean manages to croak out.
Amelia's small arms encircle her Nana's neck pulling her in so that the pair are nose to nose. "I get to go to school...everyday."
Holding her granddaughter close, Jean once again finds comfort from the child. She breathes deeply the scent that is unmistakable Amelia. "Everyday? You are growing too fast poppet." Jean and Alice lock eyes over Amelia both acutely aware of the danger that may lay ahead and just what is at stake.