Epilogue:
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Lucien's gentleness towards Jean had always been a stark contrast to that of Christopher's bullying, but now he was even more gentle. At first she found it a little stifling but gradually came to understand and accept his tenderness. He would plump a cushion behind her on the couch, make her tea when he thought she wasn't taking a rest, lift anything that had any weight to it, help her make the beds and most of all his lovemaking was the most tender and sweet she could imagine. He still sent her to the outer reaches of the universe, had her see stars but every touch, every caress and every kiss was all for her. It was like being wrapped in a warm cloud of love, and she revelled in it.
Of course, when he was out of the house she was her usual busy self, vacuuming and dusting, seeing to meals and sewing, shopping and caring for the children. The older girls were as helpful as ever and they would give Helen little tasks to do, like setting the table or carrying things about the house, all to make her feel included in the preparations for the new baby.
As Christmas came and went and her shape slowly changed people began to notice in the street and in the shops. She would be stopped and congratulated when she confirmed she was indeed expecting Lucien's baby. There was the odd one who huffed but she just smiled sweetly to herself, she would be married to the doctor fourteen months before Baby Blake put in an appearance, nobody could now accuse her of having to get married. Susan Tyneman gave her a weak smile, while Michael kissed her cheek and wished her the best of times.
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"It was good enough for you and Mary," Jean huffed as she told him where she wanted the cot putting, "I don't mind a new bassinet for our room, but we don't need a new cot or pram."
"They're a bit old fashioned, love," he panted, "don't you want something a bit more modern?"
"Why?" she folded her arms, "there's nothing wrong with that, the mattress is new, or it was when Mary was born, Li was fine in it when you sent her here ..."
Lucien could see it was a battle he wasn't going to win and Thomas grinned from the doorway.
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When she had begun to feel the movements of the child she carried she had let Lucien hold his hand over her belly and he waited, albeit not very patiently. She laughed and said it would seem her baby was going to be trouble. The only person the baby kicked on demand for was Helen. She would cuddle up next to Jean on the couch and whisper to the bump, telling the baby how she was looking forward to meeting him, and that he was a lucky baby to have Jean for a mummy and Lucien for a daddy.
"And of course," she murmured, "there's gran'pa, too." She was rewarded with a kick to her hand and she smiled.
One thing that did surprise her was the number of times Alice was 'just passing'. It didn't bother her, at all, in fact she enjoyed her company in the quiet times. Matthew had told her enough for her to realise she was just curious. She dealt with the dead, not the living, had no experience of children beside the ones in their house and readily admitted she would probably be of no use should Jean decide to go into labour while she was there. Jean had laughed and said it was ok, she could talk her through it.
It was Jean who offered her the chance to feel the kicks, "if you want to," she smiled. "Helen loves to sit and talk to him, and he kicks her when she does."
"Oh, er ..." Alice blushed, and put her hand tentatively on the bump, "goodness, does it hurt?"
"No, not really," Jean shrugged, "if he kicks a rib it can be uncomfortable but it's not painful."
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Jean noticed everyone referred to the baby as 'he', or 'him' and she thought it would be nice to give Lucien a son, someone to carry on the family name, but, really, as long as it was healthy she would be happy and Lucien insisted he didn't mind one way or the other, as long as both of them were well.
"We can't choose, love," he murmured one night, stroking the bump and eliciting kicks against his finger, "and I don't think we should be able to. It would cause an imbalance - too many fathers would be wanting sons - look at Jackson."
"I'd rather not," she pouted, "my father never made me feel like I was a disappointment, being a girl, even when I slipped up."
"Smart feller," he mused, "guess that's where you get it from."
"I suppose we ought to think of names," she changed the subject, "for a boy, I think, perhaps, Thomas? Your father did bring us together, in a big way."
"Two Thomas' in the house, could you cope?"
"Two Luciens might be worse," she teased.
"Huh," he puffed, "but still, not Lucien, I got teased rather a lot when I was a child, at school, called 'Lucie', too often." He looked at her astonished face, "Hey, I was young, words hurt!"
"Hm, well, I do think 'Thomas' somewhere in his name," she drew her brows together.
"How about 'John', Thomas John, then perhaps he could be known by his middle name, except when he's in trouble ..."
"Which is bound to happen because of his parents, or at least his father," she smirked.
"Cheek, still Thomas John Blake sounds good, strong ..."
"I think I'll call him 'Jack', though, for his everyday name."
Lucien could see they had settled on a name for his son, but ...
"If it is a girl, just in case?"
"Genevieve," she nodded firmly, "I nearly called Mary that, or at least had it as her second name, but I thought it wasn't the kind of name for the child of an abandoned wife," she bit her lip.
He raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't question it, too much water under the bridge.
"Jenny for short," he smiled.
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Thomas John Blake (known as Jack) was born exactly two weeks after Jean and Lucien celebrated their first wedding anniversary. She didn't think the labour was as long or as painful as when Mary was born but then she was older and wiser. Lucien was confined to the corridor outside the room, which he hated. Pacing up and down, wishing she had had a home birth, but she had gone into labour while visiting Agnes Clasby in hospital and had been whisked away to the maternity ward before she had chance to think. Miss Clasby had demanded a wheelchair and been taken to the same spot and kept him company telling him Jean was strong and that everything would be alright.
"I know," he ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. Jean has remarked that very morning that it needed cutting and she would see to it that evening.
"Do the others know she's here?"
"I phoned dad," he stopped pacing, "he's going to do surgery for me, and Mary and Li will pick up Helen ..."
"Does that other girl still live with you? "
"Sylvia?" he shook his head, "no, not now, it was only a temporary placement though we were happy to have her for as long as she wanted to stay with us. When her mother's case hit the papers a woman surfaced, claiming to be her aunt. Matthew did some investigating and found that Mrs Hammond did indeed have a sister. She came over to see Sylvia ..." he flinched as he heard Jean call out, "... a quite gentle and generous person, she and her niece took to each other almost immediately. School has been trying, for Sylvia, of late and we decided it would be better for her to have a new start elsewhere. We do miss her, especially Mary but they write."
"Are there you are," a familiar voice echoed down the corridor, "really Agnes," Nell Clasby huffed, "hasn't Lucien got enough to think about."
"It's quite alright, Miss Nell," Lucien smiled, "she's keeping me occupied and out of trouble."
"Any news yet?" she whispered.
"No, but Jean is working hard, from the sound of it," Lucien wrung his hands together, "we had hoped for a home birth, then I could at least hold her hand."
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Nell soothed, "she's strong and healthy."
Suddenly a cry rent the air and Lucien stopped pacing, turning to the door.
"He's here," he whispered, "that's a baby's cry."
"He, Lucien?" Nell raised her eyebrows.
"Jean is sure," he nodded.
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When he was finally allowed in to see his wife and baby all was calm in the room. Jean had been made comfortable and was sitting up with a tiny bundle in her arms.
"A boy, Lucien," she sighed, "told you," she grinned and handed Thomas John to his father. He cradled him gently and looked at the smattering of red hair, starting to curl as it dried, the button nose and dark eyes, the sweet little mouth.
"He's beautiful," he breathed then leant forward to kiss her gently, "Jean, oh my ..." he blinked back tears. "How are you, darling?"
"Fine, a little tired," she smiled, "nothing unusual."
You need to rest," he stood up.
"Stay a while longer, please," she reached over to touch his arm, "ask the nurse for some tea, for both of us."
Lucien did just that and stayed well beyond what the nurses wanted. He watched Jean put the baby to her breast and show him how to change the nappy, then he placed him in the bassinet at the side of the bed, ready to be taken down to the nursery.
"I wish I could have him with me, like I would have done at home," she slid down the bed and allowed him to tuck her in.
"Want me to ask?"
"No, they'll only say 'no'," she sighed, "and you better go, before we get into trouble." She smiled.
He bent down and kissed her, "send for me, if you need me," he whispered, "I'm at your beck and call."
"Go and give the family the news," she yawned, "I shall see you tomorrow."
He waited until she had fallen asleep before he left.
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On the way home he thought about what she had said, and it was true. If things had gone to plan she would not be separated from her child, he would be at their bedside.
He opened the door and looked down the hall, four expectant faces looked at him.
"A boy," he smiled, "Thomas John, just on seven pounds." He was suddenly wrapped in warm arms, kissed and shrieked at.
"Yay!" Helen squealed, "we have a brother!"
"You do indeed," Thomas smiled, "congratulations, son. How is Jean?"
"Tired, she's sleeping," Lucien moved down to the kitchen, "he's had his first feed and been settled in his bassinet. He's probably down in the nursery now." He pouted, Jean's voice echoing in his head.
"Something wrong, Lucien?" Thomas looked concerned.
"No, they're both fine, it's just Jean is ... well you know she wanted to have him here, at home, so he could be by her side and not taken from her."
"What's to stop her coming home?" Mary folded her arms and stared at him. She got more like her mother every day, Lucien thought.
"New mothers have to stay in hospital for a week, Mary," Thomas started to explain, "to rest and be looked after. They have to stay in bed, are not allowed to do anything. When you were born it was three weeks."
"How did you keep my mother confined to bed for three weeks?" she raised her eyebrows.
"I didn't," he admitted, "she came home after a week, but I insisted she did not do all the housework, we had someone in to do that, she was allowed to do a few light chores, had to nap when you did ..."
"In that case," Lucien grinned, "taken into account the changes in the way we look after maternity cases, perhaps I should bring her home tomorrow, confine her to bed here ..."
"She does have two doctors on hand," Li pointed out.
"And we can do the chores and the housework," Mary chimed in.
"Can I help too?" Helen tugged his jacket.
Lucien sat down and pulled her onto his knee, "of course you can," he kissed her, "well, that looks like a plan, now all I have to do is persuade her medical team at the hospital ..."
"Good luck with that, son," Thomas muttered, "the maternity sisters can be formidable."
"Yeah," he smiled.
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The following day, Lucien took Helen to school, dropped the older girls at the Grammar school and headed to the hospital to do his rounds. His idea was then to go and see his wife and son and hopefully persuade the maternity sister to let him take them home. Hoping for a home birth, Jean hadn't packed a hospital bag but in the bassinet was a set of clothes for the baby and he reckoned he could put together an outfit for her. Some underwear, stockings, and a dress should suffice, he hoped.
"Don't forget her toiletries," Thomas stood watching him, amused.
"Thanks, dad," he turned and smiled, "hope this works."
"So do I son, so do I."
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Knowing Lucien would insist on seeing her after his rounds she asked the nurse to leave Jack in his bassinet at the side of the bed. When she worried about what Sister would say about that Jean just smiled and told her she would deal with Sister.
Sister wasn't happy but Jean was stubborn and reminded her that Dr Blake was actually her doctor and therefore her son's. It would be less than efficient if he had to wait while they brought him up from the nursery. Sister huffed but acquiesced to the request and so she was happily playing with the baby on the bed when Lucien arrived.
He smiled at the sight. She looked so happy and incredibly well, not at all like the wilting violet he supposed he should expect, from his experience with Mei Lin. Given half the chance, he thought, she would be in the kitchen preparing a meal or out shopping with Jack in the pram.
"Good morning, doctor," she looked up and smiled, "how lovely of you to come and see us." She turned to the baby, "see, Jack, here's daddy come to visit."
"Jean," he was by her side in two strides," you look wonderful, how are you feeling?"
"Bored," she laughed, "I have nothing to do but feed Jack, which I love doing, by the way, or sleep. The staff won't let me do anything else."
"So ..." he waved at the baby.
"Oh, I told them you were my doctor and therefore his, so it would be silly to have to wait while they brought him up to us."
"Want to go home?" he picked up his son, almost addressing him rather than Jean.
"We do," she nodded.
"Right then," he lifted the bag up, "better get dressed."
"Lucien!" she shrieked, "I know I persuaded your father to let me home only a week after Mary, but this is not even twenty four hours!"
"The girls will be around to help, even Helen," he sighed, "two doctors on hand, as Li pointed out, what's the problem?"
"Sister," she nodded towards the door, "she hasn't let me out of bed yet."
"So ..." he pursed his lips, thinking of bodily functions she would need to attend to.
"Everything is in working order," she assured him.
"Well, as your doctor," he leant forward and kissed her, "and your husband, I think you are well enough to come home." He stood up and went to look at her charts at the end of the bed, "hm," he mused, "as I thought, perfectly well enough."
She giggled and looked into the bag.
"It'll do," she hummed, and pulled out Jack's clothes.
"Sorry, I wasn't sure and you hadn't packed a bag," he blushed.
"Well, I was supposed to do this at home, wasn't I?" she sighed, "it would seem your son is going to be trouble."
"Hasty, I expect," he agreed, lifting the baby up and looking at him, "you, young man," he addressed him seriously, "need to be a little more patient."
Jean laughed out loud, causing Sister who was passing to stride in, without knocking.
"Doctor?" she raised her eyebrows as she surveyed the sight, "something wrong?" she saw Lucien's serious face.
"Nothing at all, Sister," he turned and smiled, "just explaining to my son that he should exercise a little patience. Now, while Jean gets dressed could you find her notes and I'll sign the discharge papers."
"Discharge!?" she gasped, "oh no, doctor, she has to stay in at least a week."
"Nonsense, two doctors at home, plenty of help in the house," he grinned, "no need for her to clutter up the hospital."
Jean frowned at the thought she was 'cluttering up' the hospital then saw his cheeky face.
"Just for that, doctor," she grumbled, "you can dress Jack. I warn you it is a bit like trying to put an octopus into a net!"
"My dear," he nodded solemnly, "come on son, let's get you into some going home togs, there's a family waiting to meet you."
"Doctor!" Sister put her hand on his arm, "I'm sorry, but Mrs Blake is not going anywhere."
"I'm sorry, Sister," he looked down at her, "I am Mrs Blake's GP and I deem her fit enough to leave, discharge papers, please."
"But..."
"Sister ..." he warned.
"Very well, but on your own head be it," she turned and stalked out of the room, muttering about doctors upsetting her ward.
"I shall just get a wheelchair," he passed Jack to her.
"Oh no you won't" she huffed, "that will only give Sister fuel to keep me in, I shall walk, slowly, to the car."
"Are you sure?" he scowled, lifting the bag.
"Absolutely," she nodded firmly, and, with one arm cradling her son and the other nestled in the crook of Lucien's arm they left the hospital.
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Matthew was surprised to find Alice not at home when he finished his shift that day. He knew that Jean had given birth so as Alice had spent quite a bit of time with her assumed she had gone to visit her in hospital.
"I'm sorry, Inspector," the nurse looked him up and down, still in uniform, "but Mrs Blake went home this morning."
"Really?" he blinked, "I thought ..."
"Yes, well, her doctor thought otherwise," the Sister grumbled behind him.
"Right, well, I'll be off then," he hurried away, she looked quite fearsome.
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"Hello, Uncle Matthew," Mary opened the door, "come to say hello to the newest member of the family, Dr Harvey is here too," she smiled and stood aside to let him enter. "We are just preparing dinner, you will stay, won't you?"
"Er .." he scratched his head, it was all a bit surreal.
"Lovely," she hummed.
Jean looked up from her position on the couch in the living room, having persuaded Lucien, with widened eyes and an alluring smile that she would be perfectly alright there.
"Matthew!" she grinned, "so you found us?"
"Sister said ..." he stepped in shyly, "that your doctor took you home."
She giggled, "he was ever so persuasive."
"I bet," he stood next to the couch and watched Alice cradling the baby, she seemed so peaceful.
"Hello, Matthew," she murmured, "this is our godson, Thomas John, Jack to his friends and family."
"Blimey," he sat on the arm of the couch, "a boy, then?"
"Of course," Jean stated it as if it would be otherwise.
"He's tiny," he observed. Jean grimaced. "Well, he'll grow, I suppose." Alice rolled her eyes.
He cleared his throat and offered his congratulations.
"Thank you, Matthew," Jean smiled and Lucien offered him a whisky, he looked like he needed it.
"To Thomas John," they raised their glasses, "and to Jean who did all the hard work," Thomas (the grandfather) noted.
"To Jean, my wife," Lucien bent down and kissed her softly.
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Alice lay curled up next to Matthew after a round of lovemaking.
"They look so happy," she whispered.
"They are, love," he drew circles on her naked shoulder.
"Not all families are," she observed.
"True," he agreed, "but a lot are, like them and my sister."
"Just not us," she shrugged.
"We are, but I know what you mean, we weren't."
"Do you think we could be ... like them, I mean?"
"A family, rather than a couple?" he kissed the top of her head, "I don't see why not, but that would mean ..."
"Mm," she wriggled closer, "and who's to say we could ... have children, that is."
"Fun trying," he squeezed her shoulders.
"Next year is a leap year," she muttered.
"So ..."
"Well, I could ask you," she tipped her head.
"If that's what you want, why wait?" he shrugged, "you can ask anytime, Alice, you know what my answer will be."
"Alright," she sat up the covers round her hips, her breasts on show, "Inspector Lawson, will you marry me?"
"In a heartbeat, Dr Harvey," he sat up and wrapped his arms round her.
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Two years and four months later:
"I never thought it would be like this," Alice murmured as Jean passed her a cup of tea.
"What, you and me, drinking tea and comparing children?" Jean lifted Jack off his baby brother, James.
"That, and me, married with a baby girl," she sipped the tea, "I still have to pinch myself."
"Two years ago I had three daughters, one my own, one Lucien's and one adopted," Jean shrugged, "now I have two sons as well, five children, I never would have thought it."
"More likely you than me," Alice huffed, "in fact, it's all your fault."
"Mine, Alice you do know how this happens?" Jean laughed.
"Not that," her friend raised her eyebrows, "it was seeing you, with all that I thought was out of reach. I proposed, you know, to Matthew, the night you brought Jack home. We didn't know if we would have children but I suppose I wanted what you have, that love, that ... completion. I never knew ..."
"Alice," Jean took her hand, "Matthew was meant for you and you for him, I think that is why he never found anyone, until you came along. Now you have Matilda and I think it was written, in the stars or whatever, this is what was meant to be."
"Matilda, hah!" Alice laughed, "we were certain she would be a boy, Matthew Alexander, that was what we decided on, Matilda Alexandra was the closest we could come up with, but I think it suits her, though we call her Mattie."
"She's perfect," Jean assured her, "and yes, it does suit her."
They settled to their tea and watching the little ones play one the living room floor ... peace and harmony. It was all Jean had ever wanted.
Thomas watched his daughter in law and her friend from the doorway, an smiled, he could die happy now, though he had absolutely no intention of doing so ... for quite some time.
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Thus ends this version of the story. I didn't want it to drag on forever, having noted that some of my other stories, as yet unfinished, are turning into long running soap operas. Thank you to all who have taken the time to read and comment you have been very kind.