They all ate at the Stardrop, pushing two tables together to accommodate the five adults. Jas had been sent to stay with Vincent, Marnie only having to beg a little before Jodi caved. Shane was relived that Jas wasn't there to spill all of his secrets, after she'd told Jacques that she'd once managed to convince him to wear a tiara. Jacques was so, so very disappointed that his little well of knowledge had vanished.

Lewis was simply disappointed he hadn't managed to find a legitimate excuse not to join them. Jacques was lovely. But loud.

"Gus, I love you," Lucie sighed, looking at the plate of wonders in front of her. "Teach me how to cook?"

Gus laughed and placed the pizza in front of Shane as he answered.

"You and I both know you are too broke to afford what I'd charge you," he grinned. Lucie had to admit that was true, but pouted at him anyway. "The rest of your meals will be right out."

Jacques raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Broke, huh?" He probed. Lucie raised an eyebrow and met her father's gaze coolly.

"No, dad, I live in a one room farmhouse out of choice."

"You know I'll always help you out if you need," he said quietly, ignoring the uncomfortable shifting of the other three people at the table. Lucie smiled and pushed her dad back upright.

"And I don't need. I'm getting by perfectly well, and if I ever am hungry, all I have to do is show up at Marnie's looking a little bit pathetic and she feeds me. Then sends me away with leftovers." Lucie grinned at Marnie. "Right?"

Marnie gave her a warning look.

"That was once, and you were out in a thunderstorm. Don't make a habit of it." She tried to sound stern, but she smiled at the young farmer. Lucie then turned to Lewis.

"And if I was really desperate, Lewis owes me one," she beamed.

"I do?"

"Purple shorts?"

Marnie, Shane and Lewis all spluttered, Shane half-choking on his drink. Lucie's grin widened. Lewis blushed a satisfying deep red. Jacques frowned and glanced between Marnie and Lewis.

"Oh, are they still pretending like no one knows about their relationship?" He asked, uncharacteristically quietly spoken. Lucie nodded, smirking at Marnie.

"It's sweet how they think no one knows," She teased.

"Low blow, Lucie," Lewis finally managed to say. "And if you're going to go there, how would your father like to know about the tree incident?"


"Not drinking, Shane?"

Lucie felt her soul shrivel up and die as her father asked the pointed question. Her hand moved under the table where she squeezed Shane's thigh in the most apologetic way she could.

"Not tonight, no," he answered, calmly, reaching to place his hand on top of Lucie's lightly squeezing it back. She rolled her hand over and let his fingers intertwine with her own.

"Why not? Not a drinker?" Jacques pressed.

"Dad!" Lucie protested. Jacques shrugged.

"I'm just asking!"

"Well, stop asking!" The pink-cheeked Lucie responded. "You don't need to hound Shane all day."

"It's not that big of a deal, I was just wondering if he likes a drink." Jacques crossed his arms defensively. Lucie pressed a hand to the side of her head, tilting her hand to shield her mouth from the others at the table.

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to put this fork through your hand," she muttered through the gritted teeth of a fake smile. Jacques rolled his eyes and held up his hands in defeat. But his eyes flashed to Shane, slightly more warily a few times during their eating of dessert.


Lewis had left quickly after the meal, claiming a need to get up early the next day as his escape. They didn't remain in the Stardrop much longer, with Marnie protesting she ought to get going too, and kicking Shane under the table until he, grudgingly, agreed. Lucie and Jacques negotiated walking them home, at the very least, after all, it was practically on their way.
The evening was pleasant, the kind of cool that is refreshing, rather than unpleasant. The light wind blew them on their way, sending occasional shivers down Lucie's spine. Shane stole a glance at her during one of her shivers and offered her his coat, which she refused. The refusal made the part of her that wanted to live in a romcom die a little. As did the farewell that they all said at Marnie's door. Lucie wanted nothing more than to send her father back to her farmhouse on his own, and cling to Shane like a small child.
But she said goodbye nicely, and saw the same pain in Shane's eyes.


Her father waited until they were definitely on Lucie's property before turning to her.

"Of all the people in this valley, you had to pick the drunk, didn't you?"

Lucie stopped dead in her tracks.

"What?" Her voice was quiet, venomous with its softness.
Jacques sighed, placing his hands carefully in his jacket pocket before turning to face his daughter head on.

"Look, Lucienne, I know you can't help who you love, but you could have made life easier for yourself," he said with a gentleness Lucie despised. "You know I know what I'm talking about. Your mother and I-"

"- This is nothing like you and her." Lucie snapped.

"It's exactly the same! You can't spend your life trying to fix people, Lucie!" Jacques snapped. "They either want to get better on their own or they don't, trust me."

"I'm not trying to fix him!" She threw her arms in the air as she spoke. "He used to have a problem! He chose to work at it! All I did was be nice - I just talked to him, he's done all the hard stuff himself!" Lucie stalked away a few steps, then wheeled around and walked back again. "You know what? I'm going to stay at Marnie's, or Haley's or somewhere that isn't with you. Have fun."

She tossed the key at her father, letting it hit him in the chest. He bent to pick it up before calling after her.

"Lucie, don't be ridiculous. Lucie. Lucienne! Don't walk away from me."

"Not a child anymore, Dad!"


Shane watched Lucie from out the upstairs window. Part of him felt like he should go see if she was okay, another part of him pointed out that pacing around, in the middle of a forest, gesturing wildly to herself, was not the behaviour of an 'okay' person. Surely, if she wanted someone to talk to, she'd just come knock on the door - after all, it was barely 100m away.
She threw herself to the ground, staring up at the sky, mouth open in a contortion of a silent scream. He really ought to go see what the issue was.

But it was kinda funny to watch. Scratch that, it was hilarious, given that she was now throwing a full blown tantrum, stomping her feet on the leaf-strewn ground.


"What are you doing?" Marnie's voice floated towards him, and Shane's head whipped to her in surprise. He stayed leaning against the window sill, and his gaze returned to Lucie in a matter of seconds.

"Just watching Lucie have a breakdown," he answered cheerily. Marnie moved over to the window with him, frowning and tilting her head to the side.

"Should we invite her in?" She mused, watching as Lucie stood, and jumped around on the spot, her little fists pumping the air.

Shane grabbed her wrist as she moved towards the stairs.

"In- in a minute," he grinned. Marnie hadn't seen him this gleeful in, Yoba it must have been nearly a decade since she'd seen him this happy. "If she knows we've seen this tantrum, she'll never come inside. But it's fucking hilarious."


Lucie took a deep breath. She picked the leaves out of her hair, smoothing it down once more and then straightened her clothes.

She breathed in a long, deep breath once more, then calmly headed back to her house to apologise to her father.


Tantrums were undignified, but sometimes you just need to throw a strop in a forest in the middle of the night.


"Sorry, dad."

Lucie sat down on the far side of the couch to her father, but if she thought that'd get her out of a hug, she was mistaken.
Jacques squished up to her on the couch, and bundled her up in the biggest bear hug he could manage, not relinquishing his hold on Lucie until she squeaked out that she did actually quite like breathing.

"I'm just worried about you," he said, finally letting her wriggle out of his grasp. "I don't want to watch you make the same mistakes I did."

Lucie couldn't look at her dad. She was already pretty certain she was going to start crying, but if she looked at him the dam would burst and no words would come out.

"I'm not trying to fix him," she said quietly. "I'm not encouraging him to go to therapy, unless he brings it up, and I'm not discovering him from it either. I'm just … being. Here. And someone to talk to."

Jacques stood, and nearly collided his head with the lampshade that dangled from the ceiling.

"I think a cuppa is in order," he announced, moving to the kitchen in a few deft steps. Lucie let a small huff of air out, not quite a laugh, but trying to be. The amusement was there, but the energy was gone.

"Dad?" He turned. "Thanks for pushing me to come here. I'm glad I came. But I also really miss you."

"I've missed you too, mon petit chou." Jacques replied. He flicked the switch on the kettle and the roar filled the small room. "But you do know I'm only ever a bus ride away. Just send me a letter and I'll come."