The journey home from Brisbane revolved around how they should go about organising a wedding. Even though they were both convinced it would not be possible to have a church wedding, Lucien wasn't bothered either way, Jean said she would see if Father Morton had room in the schedule. She thought it would be nice to do it right, this time, not have to get married and wear a more suitable dress.
"Jean, I want you to be happy," Lucien put his arm round her and kissed the top of her head, "if Father Morton can oblige I will be willing to stand in church and make my vows."
"You are a darling," she snuggled closer, "I know you haven't retained your faith ..."
"I rather had it knocked out of me, dearest," he sighed, "but it is important to you, so it is important to me."
"Well, we shall see, shan't we?" she tipped her head and kissed his jaw line.
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Father Morton was surprised to see Jean at his house. He only ever saw her in church, or when she came to make confession. His view of the young housekeeper had softened over the years, she seemed to have grown to be a strong and respectable woman and her daughter was a delightful girl. There were no stories about her courting, or seeing men after her annulment so why on earth was she here?
"I'm sorry to call without phoning first, father," she smiled, "but, as I have just dropped the girls off for school I thought I would take the opportunity to come and see you. I have a favour to ask."
"Come in Mrs Beazley," he stepped back, "Mrs Toohey, some tea, please," he called to his housekeeper.
"Right away, father," a voice from the kitchen floated through.
They waited until Mrs Toohey had served the tea and left to fetch some groceries. Jean was glad she wouldn't be in the house, not knowing if she would listen at the door and gossip afterwards.
"I have received a proposal of marriage, which I have accepted," she sipped the tea, "and I was wondering if it would be possible to have a small ceremony at Sacred Heart ... in the next seven weeks."
She watched for his reaction.
"Rather quick, Mrs Beazley," he hummed, and there it was, the implication that she had slipped up again.
"Firstly, father, I must assure you, I do not have to get married, this is not a marriage of convenience. My fiancé and I are in love, he is a respected member of the community and would never put me in that position." She ignored what they had done that weekend, after all, they had taken precautions.
"So why the hurry?"
"My fiancé lost a close friend recently and he left a daughter, such a young child to be left on her own. We would like to adopt her," they had briefly touched on the idea on the train home, "and we can't, if we aren't married. We had intended to wait a little longer, he only came home from the war last year ..."
"Does she have no other family?"
"No, her mother passed away last year, she is only six," Jean was beginning to think he was going to say he had no spaces for months.
"She will be brought up in the catholic faith?" he wondered. Mary was, and Jean had brought the other half Chinese child to mass.
"As are Li and Mary," she inhaled, "we don't want a full Catholic mass, father, we are both widowed; Christopher died in a prison camp; just a blessing. If you aren't willing, then we will have a civil ceremony."
Father Morton looked at her. He was beginning to mellow, realise that life was not so cut and dried between the sinners and the pure of heart. Jean Beazley, he thought, in spite of everything was pure of heart. She had, after all, found it in her heart to organise a catholic funeral for her parents even though she was estranged from her mother. He stood and went to his desk to retrieve the church diary.
"Well, " he hummed, "it being autumn and fewer weddings in this season and winter, I can perform a short service in ... let me see ... ah yes, a cancellation, just over four weeks - June fourteenth?"
"I think that sounds perfect," she smiled, wondering if she could get dresses made for the girls, as bridesmaids and one for herself in four weeks. Because this time she was having a dress more suited to a bride. Not the white, virginal type, cream, she thought, not full length, no veil - something elegant and befitting a doctor's wife.
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Lucien was happy that Jean was happy and Thomas was ecstatic that his son was taking Jean as his wife. He could die happy after this, but had no intention of doing so, next he was going to wait for grandchildren, a grandson perhaps ...
"Thomas," Jean broke through his thoughts, "Thomas, I have a favour to ask."
"Ask away dear girl," he grinned.
"I have no one to give me away," she laughed at his happiness, "I was wondering, though you won't be giving me away, more taking me in - again."
"I thought you'd ask Matthew, or Bill, but dear Jean, I would be delighted."
"Matthew is Lucien's best man," she kissed his cheek, "and, thank you."
"I suppose the girls are bridesmaids?"
"I had some trouble getting Sylvia to agree," she nodded, "but, as I pointed out to her, what would people think, if I left her out. I do want her to be with our two, though, she is family."
"That's what Lucien said, at Christmas."
"He did, didn't he," she headed back to the kitchen to continue preparations for dinner.
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Lucien paced the studio, waiting for Jean to finish in the kitchen. She had shooed him out of the way while she finished portioning left-overs to go in the freezer. He had agreed that they should take advantage of the date offered by Father Morton but something was playing on his mind, something he didn't want to discuss in front of the family. He had played with her wedding ring whenever he had held her hand, she still wore it to keep the gossips at bay, but knew he would like her to take it off. She would, when the time was right, now was not the time. They had three and a half weeks, and at the moment she hadn't gone public with the impending marriage. Even the girls had been sworn to secrecy.
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"Why, mama?" Li had tipped her head to one side, "surely it is something you should be congratulated on."
"Yes love, ordinarily I would agree," she hugged her, "but with your papa and I living in the same house people are likely to think we are living as man and wife, when we aren't. "
"People can be cruel, Li" Thomas added, "they don't like to think the best of people, they like to imagine the worst and gossip."
"The banns will be read at the weekend, sweetie," she smiled, "then the sniggering will start and they will think I have to get married, rather than it is just because your father and I love each other."
Jean knew the next three weeks were going to be a minefield for her, dodging the snide comments and she had told Lucien that she had better not get pregnant on her wedding night.
"We can take precautions for the first month, if that will help," he held her close one night, "perhaps I could fit you for a diaphragm."
It was an odd conversation to have with one's fiancé, she thought, but he was a doctor. It would make sense, but she was worried that a diaphragm would take the spontaneity out of their lovemaking, unless she put it in before they retired, every night.
"No, darling man," she patted his cheek, "I'm prepared to take the risk"
"Well, there's always the current arrangement," he winked.
Jean felt another visit to Brisbane was in order, if she didn't have so much to do!
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She left the kitchen, all the tasks completed and headed for the studio to find out what was playing on Lucien's mind.
"Ah, there you are," he stepped towards her and took her hands in his, "Jean, about this very short engagement - you need a ring." It came out in a rush but it was what was bothering him, she realised.
"That's a lovely idea, Lucien," she smiled, "I suppose it's expected but you don't have to."
"I am not having Ballarat sneer because I haven't bought you a ring, and you deserve one. I want things done properly," he wrapped his arms around her.
"If you wanted things done properly, dear Lucien," she whispered, "then Brisbane shouldn't have happened." She giggled.
He laughed and kissed her firmly on the forehead. "Agreed. Now, about this ring."
"Where are you suggesting we go, Sam?" she tipped her head and looked at him.
"Or we could go to Melbourne - for the weekend," he smirked.
"Dr Blake!" she hissed, "are you suggesting..?"
He shrugged, "why not?"
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The girls at school, Thomas taken to the club by Matthew on his day off, it was only the two of them in the house. There was, thankfully, no mysterious death to investigate, peace, silence, a chance.
Jean locked the doors and took the phone off the hook. Daring, she knew, naughty, of that there was no doubt but after one weekend with Lucien, she needed another intimate moment.
They had petted, rather heavily, in the studio when the rest had gone to bed, Lucien had used his fingers to take her over the edge, then taken himself in hand later. There was one time he had almost suggested she take him in her mouth, but he wasn't sure if she had ever done such a thing with Christopher. He had used his mouth on her but that was another thing entirely. There had been an evening when she had appeared in her night things, after a bath, and he had used his father's shower, after a particularly trying case, and settled in the studio in his pyjamas and robe. They had drunk their drinks and started kissing and fondling but that was all they dared to do.
This time, in the quiet of the afternoon hands had wandered, so had lips and tongues and he had suddenly lifted up from her.
"Just a minute," he shot out of the room and she heard him pull a drawer in the cabinet. He returned, smiling, locked the door and resumed kissing and touching, tasting and marking her.
She pulled him onto the rug in front of the fire and smiled. They undressed each other, taking the time to appreciate skin and shape, scars and marks, to admire each other.
They made love right there. She 'dressed' him and straddled him. This was new, usually Christopher had been on top but she had read a few magazines and listened to a few asides, and decided that she should be in charge. The weekend in Brisbane had taught her to be braver, to be more than a quick fumble in the barn.
He loved seeing her come apart above him, arch and groan as he thrust into her and held her while she held him. It was glorious and he was sure that even after they were married they could lock the studio after the family had gone to bed and delight in each other.
By the time everyone returned and Matthew had gone to collect Dr Harvey to join them for dinner Jean and Lucien were engaged in more usual activities. He was reading in the living room and Jean was in the kitchen preparing the roast chicken and vegetables.
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The talk over dinner was of the wedding. Alice had been invited and accepted, not wanting to appear rude or standoffish, but as Matthew would be there she felt reasonably comfortable about it. She was completely relaxed when she had meals at the Blake house, it had become usual for her after Christmas and nobody laughed at her comments about whatever they were talking about or gave her a strange look - she felt accepted, and that was all she wanted.
Everybody noticed the closeness between the two but nobody mentioned it or suggested it should be a double wedding, though Mary had thought it.
"I'm taking Jean to Melbourne, at the weekend," Lucien declared, "to get the rings."
"Just for the day?" Thomas asked, innocently.
"That's the plan," Jean jumped in, "it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours." She went a little pink.
"Unless you want to get anything else," Lucien added, "shoes, perhaps?"
She stared at him, what would he know? He shrugged and grinned. She shook her head and sighed as she started to collect the plates and take them to the sink.
"We'll do that, mum," Mary stood up and took the dishes, "you go and have a drink with the others."
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"So, the banns are being read this weekend?" Matthew swirled his whisky in his glass.
"They are," Jean heaved a sigh, "then the talk will start, that I have to get married, again," she rolled her eyes.
"Don't worry, Jean," Thomas leaned over and patted her arm, "as your doctors, Lucien and I can confirm that is not the case."
"I'd rather Lucien said nothing, Thomas," Jean huffed, "I don't want him defending my honour, that will look as if he has something to hide, if you do you can be righteously indignant and everyone will believe you, not that there would be anything not to believe," she added hastily.
"Knowing how people talk," Alice murmured, "if you were eighty years old they would still be of the same opinion."
"Small minded, that's what they are," Matthew agreed with her, "nothing else to do but talk about other people when it is none of their business."
Jean surmised from this that he and Alice were being talked about and agreed, it was nobody's business but their own.
"There are plenty in Ballarat that have no room to talk," Jean huffed, "I could name quite a few, but won't, and believe you me, they are the first ones to point the finger."
"I don't doubt it at all," Lucien squeezed her hand.
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"They're being talked about," Jean whispered as they stood watching Alice and Matthew drive off.
"Yeah," Lucien slipped his arm round her waist, "Alice has hinted as much in the morgue, occasionally. I think it's getting to her."
"Oh dear," she sighed, "do you think I should offer an ear, or a shoulder?"
"How do you deal with it?"
"As I said, I know enough secrets, I just remember them and if necessary remind them about how early their first child came, after the wedding ..." she closed the door, "I don't have room to talk, and I don't. We all make mistakes, Lucien, some of which we pay for for the rest of our lives. I made the best of mine and it worked out very well."
"You know, I'm rather glad you did make that mistake, I wouldn't have met you otherwise."
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The visit to Melbourne went well, Lucien found the perfect jewellers and the ring they chose for her engagement ring was beautiful. A diamond, round cut with the shoulders shaped like leaves with small diamonds set into them, and she finally took off her wedding ring. Right up until he had paid for that and the two plain gold wedding rings she had told him it wasn't necessary but even she had to admit it was lovely. They had lunch in a small restaurant and he didn't suggest that they 'miss' the train home. They only had three weeks to get through.
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"What are you two whispering about?" Jean pushed open the study door to find her fiancé and his father deep in conversation.
"I was just telling Lucien that I am perfectly capable of taking surgery for a week, while you two go on a short honeymoon, Sydney, maybe?" Thomas smiled, "you can't just get married and not have some time to yourselves."
"Oh," she folded her arms, "I never thought about it, to be honest."
"It would be nice, though, Jean," Lucien smiled, "even if I would like to take you around the world, Sydney, we could go to the theatre, perhaps."
"If you're worried about the girls Matthew and Alice could come to stay," Thomas suggested.
"I think they have enough to deal with without the girls watching for signs of romance," Jean huffed, "but I think we can trust you to behave, Thomas."
"So, I should find us a hotel then?" Lucien raised his eyebrows.
"Alright, then," she left them to it, for once happy to be organised.
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"Right, Alice," Lucien dropped the scalpel into the dish, "go up and see Jean, she is getting it too, she has some put downs you may like."
"Lucien ..."
"You are not in the right frame of mind to work," he folded his arms, she had been bad tempered ever since she had walked into the morgue that morning, even suggesting she find alternative lodgings. Lucien had soon got it out of her that it wasn't her landlord that had upset her but some nasty remarks by a couple of women she had passed in the hospital car park.
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Jean was surprised to see Alice on her doorstep, obviously not in the best of moods. She took her down to the kitchen and put a cup of tea and some freshly made sponge cake in front of her.
"Come on, Alice," she smiled, "spill the beans."
"I'm sorry Jean," she sighed, "it just got to me this morning. I've got used to the odd looks, it's not as if they have changed much, it was the remark about living in sin and being nothing more than a strumpet, was the word used. All because my address is the same as Inspector Lawson's."
"Don't suppose you know who it was do you?"
"About my height, dark hair, tightly permed, thin lipped, small eyes, blue I think, or grey, thin, wearing a blue wool coat, not very well fitting. Sorry don't know her name, I would say she is a little older than us." Alice closed her eyes while she recalled the woman. "She was with a blonde tarty looking woman, bright lipstick, tight skirt."
Jean nodded, she knew them and smiled at the 'tarty' description. "I think I know who you mean," she put her cup down, "and you don't need to take any notice. Margie Steel and Esme Rolands are sisters, believe it or not. Margie married young and has a son, Graham. Strangely, although she has always been one of Thomas' patients he never treated her during her pregnancy. Esme has never married but she is never short of a man friend. She disappeared for six months not long after Margie married, then all of a sudden Margie had a son. Oddest birth I've ever heard of."
"I think I see where you are going with this," Alice started to look relaxed, "that the boy is actually Esme's son and Margie has never had children."
"Quite, and he has more of Esme's colouring than Margie's."
"So, if she says anything ..."
"Just ask after Graham, that's what I do," Jean grinned, "usually shuts her up. Esme too."
"Thank you, Jean. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, it's just well some times during the month I get a little testy."
"Understood, poor Matthew."
"Actually, he seems to understand, at least, he doesn't do anything to upset me."
"Always was a smart man."
"I bet."
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The three weeks passed very quickly. Jean ignored the tittle tattle in town and Alice just looked down her nose every time she saw Esme with a different man, or slipping a packet of condoms into her handbag the day Alice popped into the chemist to buy some Bex. Not very subtle, she thought, much better if she bought them somewhere she wasn't known. The chemist served her with his usual efficiency but Alice could see he did not approve of his previous customer.
"Everything alright, Mr Jackson?" Alice handed over the money for her purchase.
"Hm, not a good advert for Ballarat, that one," he passed her her change, "but I suppose I should be grateful she takes precautions, these days."
"Thank you," she left feeling much happier. She wasn't sleeping with her landlord, and if she was she would make sure Matthew got anything they needed for that anywhere but Ballarat, discretion was always the better form of valour.
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The day of the wedding dawned cool, the autumn sun filtering through the leaves of the trees. Lucien had stayed at Matthew's overnight, they would go down to the church together. A car had been organised for Jean and the girls and Thomas, the Riley not deemed to be reliable enough.
Jean helped the girls dress, she had used the silk Lucien had bought in Singapore for their dresses, there was enough to make one for Sylvia out of the same colour he had bought Mary. Simple dresses, with three quarter length sleeves and a stand collar on a boat neck. Fitted bodices and full skirts, Jean thought they looked lovely. Her dress was of ivory shantung silk, panel shaped to the waist and flared to mid calf length. She wore a short bolero style jacket over the top of the short sleeved bodice. The dress fastened down the back with tiny pearl buttons that the girls did up for her. The outfit was finished off with a small shallow pill box hat with veil over her forehead, and plain cream court shoes.
"Mum," Mary stood back, "you look beautiful."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Jean smiled, "shall we go and see what gran'papa thinks?"
Thomas was standing in the living room, not daring to sit in case he creased his suit. Grey three piece, starched white shirt and a tie Jean had made out of Mary's silk. Lucien's tie was made out of the silk he bought for Li and Matthew's was the same as Thomas'. He gasped when he saw his future daughter in law.
"You look exquisite, my dear," he stepped forward and took her hand, "Lucien is a very lucky man."
"I'm a very lucky woman," she smiled back, "that he would choose a simple housekeeper for his wife."
"Housekeeper you may be, Jean," Thomas tutted, "never simple."
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Lucien held his breath as he heard the sound of footsteps behind him in the church. Matthew turned and grinned,
"No worries, mate," he whispered, "no worries at all."
He could barely get his vows out as he stared at this vision in front of him, declaring she would love and honour him, she has suggested he vow to obey her, and he very nearly did,
"...'til death do us part."
There was a spontaneous burst of applause as he kissed his wife and she blushed just a little.
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The reception was held at the Colonist's Club, Thomas has asked Cec to arrange it for their closest friends, the ones who knew them best. The Clasby sisters, some supportive patients, Bill Hobart. It was a small but select gathering and Jean was grateful for that. She knew all eyes would be on her waistline over the next few months but she could hold her head up high.
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Thomas turned the large envelope round in his hand. It bore the postmark 'Brisbane' and the only person they knew there was little Helen Alderton. Neither Lucien nor Jean had worried that the little girl hadn't written to them, at her age it would be all or nothing though they had written a couple of times. He shook the package and felt there was more than one letter in there. Jean had told him they had given Helen six ready stamped and addressed envelopes for her to write to them, but the writing on this envelope was neither of theirs. It was neat but childishly formed, uneducated he thought.
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Lizzie had crossed her fingers when she put the envelope in the box. She had found Helen's letters in the waste paper bin in the office, by Miss Gallagher's desk. Usually it was Miss Gallagher that took the letters to the post box, after checking for spellings, but for some reason she had seen fit to throw these ones away. Lizzie had said nothing to Helen, the little girl was looking forward to the doctor and his wife coming to see her and take her for the term break. So far they had had three weeks with no nightmares and therefore no wet beds, to tell her the letters hadn't been sent would set her back.
She checked the letters and found that Helen had said that she was looking forward to staying with them, that she had been a good girl at school (which Lizzie knew meant the bed) and thanked them for the lovely lunch and ice cream. She had said that both Miss Gallagher and Miss Hobson had been sharp with her when she said she had been allowed ice cream and told her off for asking for such a treat. When she had said she hadn't asked she had been offered she had been smacked and sent to sit in the punishment cupboard.
"So that's why you haven't sent the letters," Lizzie muttered to herself, "you mean cow! She only told the truth."
Helen had told Lizzie all about Uncle Lucien and Auntie Jean and how they had other children at home all girls, though one was a friend of the eldest who was staying with them. She told her that Uncle Lucien worked with the police and Auntie Jean helped run the doctor's surgery.
So Lizzie had decided to send all the letters at once and leave the doctor to deal with it.
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Jean and Lucien had a wonderful week in Sydney, they had been to the theatre walked in the parks and enjoyed being by themselves. They did miss the family just enough, but not enough to phone and find out if they were alright. Lucien had given his father the number of the hotel, just in case, but Thomas was determined not to use it, and he didn't.
They arrived back home in time for dinner, prepared by the girls, and were greeted with hugs and shouts of delight. Jean noticed how clean and tidy the house was, Thomas looked happy and well, pride written all over his face. This was where she was meant to be, she smiled, with her family.
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They waited until the girls and Thomas had retired to bed before opening the package from Brisbane. There were three letters from Helen and a note from Lizzie.
Lizzie apologised for lifting the letters from the waste basket.
"Dear Dr Blake,
I found these in Miss Gallagher's waste bin. I hope I did right, sending them to you, but Miss Helen has been so happy since your visit and she only tells the truth. The other girls are not kind to her especially now that she has no family. She is not the youngest here but the only one without family to back her up so she has always got the short straw. I guess the Misses didn't want you to see them because Miss Helen told you she got in trouble for the ice cream. The cupboard is a tiny place with no light by the Misses office. She was in there all night and got into trouble for the mess she made.
Please take her away from here, I love the poor little mite but this is not the place for one so sweet.
Lizzie"
Jean was horrified and the both knew what the 'mess' was that Lizzie referred to.
"What do we do, Lucien?" she bit her lip, "we aren't due for two weeks. If we turn up early Miss Gallagher will know we have seen Helen's letters and have been tipped off. Lizzie might lose her job."
"Well," he pulled her close on the couch, "while you were busy organising the wedding I got in touch with Family Welfare in Brisbane, told them all about young Helen and that we wondered if we would be allowed to adopt her. They agreed it would be a possibility as we were getting married, but, understandably, wanted to know if we had any interest in her inheritance."
"Of course we don't," she sniffed, "what a thought, indeed."
"Which is precisely what I said, and even said I was prepared to invest the estate in an account for her, that she could access once she reached twenty one. I thought that was a good age, you?"
"I don't see why not," Jean agreed, "she will have finished college or university by then, it will start her out in life."
"Quite."
"So, what do we do now?"
"I suggest that in the morning we write to Miss Gallagher and Miss Hobson; interesting relationship;" he mused," and tell them we are going to take Helen for the term break as previously arranged. Then I'll ring FW in Brisbane and let them know to meet us there. We can always go a couple of days early, book into a hotel ..."
"... not the same one," Jean nudged him.
"What, oh, yes, right," he got what she was saying, "anyway we want one with a small room attached to ours, for Helen."
"We do," she nodded, "and I need to sort a room out for her, here."
"Which one will she use?"
"The only one free is mine, really," she sighed, "but it has a double bed."
"What about the little one next to it?"
"It has the cot in, and no bed."
"So, we put the cot away, in the garage, and get a bed." He shrugged, to him it was easy, and really, it was.
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Sorting out the room for Helen wasn't the only furniture they had to move. Somehow they had to get Jean's wardrobe into Lucien's room and it was going to be a tight fit.
"Perhaps the other room, down the hall," Lucien suggested, "it was always the guest room, and is bigger than mine."
"It already has a wardrobe, bigger than either of ours so perhaps we can use that, together," Jean thought, "and a dressing table with mirror. And," she whispered, "we will be further away from your father ..." she left the rest hanging in the air, she could be a little bit vocal when she climaxed.
It took over a week before they were completely rearranged. They determined Lucien's old room would be the new guest room, the little room that had the cot in got a new single bed and small chest of drawers. The cot was dismantled and stored in Jean's old room, both hoping one day it would be used again. Jean thought it would be rather nice to provide Lucien with a son, before he got overrun with women.
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Jean ran her hands through her hair, Lizzie had written again, enclosing a short note from Helen and she felt it was now imperative Helen was removed from the school. She blamed Derek, more than the school, they were not equipped to look after a six year old, he would have been better handing her over to the local orphanage, or been honest with Lucien. Lucien agreed and said he would have probably sent Helen to live with his father without even thinking about any long term implications. Brisbane Family Welfare had looked into Dr Blake's situation, conferred with Ballarat and agreed that it would be better for the child if she were cared for by a family.
They explained to the girls and Thomas what they would be doing, that a six year old girl would be joining the family and needed to be made to feel welcome.
"We don't know what impact the school will have had on her behaviour," Lucien told them, "we do know she has nightmares and with that comes other issues, which are nothing to be concerned about, your mother may need some help with extra laundry and you may be woken in the night, we don't know."
"All we ask is that you be patient," Jean looked at Mary, " I know you don't remember how helpful you were when Li came to us, darling, but I know you will be just as helpful with Helen."
"I remember she was rather stubborn," Mary laughed, "but you say Helen is six, so we won't have that particular issue, this time."
"No, but .." Jean sighed.
"It's ok, mama," Li smiled, "we'll all help, she needs to know we love her, that's all."
"Bless you, Li," Lucien's eyes filled with tears, "you're quite right. So, we are off to Brisbane tomorrow and will return with Helen, we hope. Her latest letter says she is really excited to be coming to stay, but she thinks it is only for a holiday. We didn't want to get her hopes up, but Lizzie, the maid, says she is repeatedly punished for small transgressions which are often not her fault, like a missing sock or mussed up bed. It's usually one of the other children who have families and are used to fighting their own battles."
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"Well at least we'll be rid of her," Gertrude Hobson sniffed to her partner. They had received the letter from Dr and Mrs Blake announcing their intention to adopt Helen Alderton. "Trouble that one, has been since day one."
"True," Stella Gallagher nodded, "it was all quite peaceful until she arrived. Of course, not having the ground rules from parents didn't help and not being able to contact or bring her father in to sort out her behaviour hasn't helped, either."
"He was just glad to get her off his hands," Miss Hobson tossed her head, "well they can deal with her."
"Poor darling," Stella put her cup down, "come here and let me soothe you."
Gertrude went over to the couch and lay down with her head in Stella's lap and let her friend's hands work their magic.
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"Do you think we should do the journey home in two stages, Lucien?" Jean looked up from stitching some buttons onto a little dress she had been making for Helen. "It's awfully long for a child."
"Well we change trains at Sydney so we could stay overnight there, I suppose," he mused, "how do you know that will fit her?"
"What, oh, well, it's a pattern I used for Mary and Li, when they were four or five, and with Helen looking a little smaller than I remember either of them ..." she shook it out, "let's face it Lucien, she came out with us in an outsize school uniform so I'm guessing that's all she has. I'll take her shopping for a few things before we leave, the rest I can deal with at home."
"Right, so I suppose you won't want me on that trip, I'll see if I can sort out a stop in Sydney then."
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Jean decided to take the dress with them when they went to pick Helen up. Family Welfare had spoken to them that morning and they had signed the papers necessary to add Helen to their family. The school had offered no objection and had even said it would probably be best for the child.
Miss Gallagher looked them up and down, much more refined than she remembered them and there was something new about Mrs Blake she couldn't put her finger on. She sent Lizzie to fetch Helen and her suitcase.
"May I go with her?" Jean asked, innocently, "make sure she has everything."
"Lizzie, escort Mrs Blake to the infant dormitory."
Lizzie bobbed and smiled at Jean.
Once out of earshot Jean thanked her for sending on Helen's letters.
"Oh, Mrs Blake," Lizzie gasped, "Helen gets blamed for everything and most of it isn't her doing. She's so quiet and the other girls pick on her."
"We were worried about you possibly losing your job," Jean noted softly, "and we thought Helen needed you until we could do something about it."
"Huh," Lizzie tossed her head, "that won't happen, I know too much about those two, personally. Don't know how many parents would feel about their girls being looked after by a couple of women who aren't married and share a flat ... and bedroom."
"I see," Jean nodded. Other people's living arrangements were of no concern to her, but she was aware that her views were probably a little more liberal since she had come to know Lucien. "Still, keep in touch, won't you."
"Yes ma'am, just to hear what Helen get's up to," she grinned, "well, here she is." She opened a door and there was Helen sitting on a bed playing with a dilapidated small teddy bear.
"Auntie Jean!" she jumped up and ran at her, flinging her arms round her waist, "you came!"
"Of course, surely you didn't think we wouldn't?"
"The girls did, they said nobody wanted a little girl like me."
"Tosh," Jean kissed the top of the unruly auburn curls, "we do, very much. Now," she stood back and looked at her, "I don't think school uniform is the dress of the day, what say you , Lizzie?"
"All she's got, Mrs Blake," Lizzie shrugged.
"Well, how about you try this on," she took the dress out of her basket together with a cardigan.
"For me?" Helen's eyes were like saucers, "a new dress!"
Jean laughed and helped her undress, noting new underwear would go on the list to get that day. In her vest and knickers Jean could see just how tiny Helen was.
The grey cotton dress, with white Peter Pan collar and cuffs suited Helen, contrasting well with her hair. It was fitted to the waist and the gathered skirt ended at her knees. Jean added a white cardigan to the outfit and retied her hair with matching grey ribbons.
"What's in the suitcase, Lizzie?" Jean turned her attention to the small valise.
"Undies, pyjamas, socks, toothbrush," Lizzie recited, "clean uniform."
Jean opened it and looked through the items. "We won't bother, " Jean smiled, "get rid of it, please. Helen and I are going shopping this afternoon."
"Gardener's got a bonfire today," Lizzie grinned, conspiratorially, "we'll take it out, all normal like, and I'll run round to the back."
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"Uncle Lucien!" she ran down the hall, arms outspread.
"Helen!" Miss Gallagher shouted, but she didn't listen, she just flung herself into Lucien's arms and he swung her up high, before settling her on his hip.
"Well, hello there," he grinned, "that's quite a welcome."
"Do you like my new dress?"
"It's lovely, you look so pretty," he let her slip to the ground, "ah, her suitcase, shall we go?" He offered his arm to Jean and let Lizzie precede them.
"Thank you, Miss Gallagher," he tipped his hat politely, "we shall be in touch."
As the door closed behind them Helen looked up at her new parents, "is it true, what they said," she stared at them, "that I never have to back there, again?"
Lucien squatted down in front of her, "it's true, little one," he smiled and took her hand, "if you don't mind we thought, perhaps, you would like to stay with us."
"Forever?" her eyes were impossibly wide.
"Forever," he replied, seriously, "unless you have any objection."
She looked up at Lizzie.
"Told you, Miss," Lizzie smiled, holding back her tears, "I said not to take any notice of the other girls, you are a Blake now, isn't she, doctor?" she looked at Lucien.
"That she is, Lizzie, " he agreed, "Helen Alderton-Blake, to give her her full title."
"I'll miss you, Lizzie," Helen looked up at her friend, "thank you for being so kind to me."
"You are most welcome, Miss Helen, now, be a good girl, work hard at your studies and write to me, sometimes."
"I will," Helen nodded, "promise."
Lizzie watched them go then slipped round to the back of the school and emptied the suitcase onto the bonfire and then dropped the case on it.
"Hey, Lizzie," the gardener had watched her, "watch'er doin'?"
"Little Helen has gone to a good home, Fred," she smiled, "don't need that trash anymore."
"Good, " he nodded and raked the things further into the fire, "not the right kind of school for a littl'un like her."
"No," she nodded, dusted her hands and went into the kitchen for a well earned cup of tea.