"We have to be proud of our children and give them all the love we have. Your daughter needs you. Go to her. Be a proud father to her."

After his conversation with Mr. Robbins, Patrick was anxious to go home to his family. He wanted to hold both his children tight. He was not sure how receptive Timothy would be to a hug, so he may have to settle for a pat on the back. Hopefully he would be in for the evening. It had been a busy week and he had been called out almost every night.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the flat was the warm glow of light and the murmur of happy voices. This was home. This was family. He and Tim survived two long years with just themselves and now he could not remember how they managed.

"Hello family," his happy greeting took them by surprise.

"Oh hello dear, we were in the middle of some complicated figures and I did not hear you come home," Shelagh walked over to greet him with a quick, non mushy kiss. Typically she meets him in the hall.

"How was your day? You must be tired. You were out most of last night again."

"Yes, there certainly have been a lot of babies. Makes me wonder what was happening nine months ago," he said quietly hoping only Shelagh would hear him.

"Patrick!" she laughed.

"What'd he say?" Timothy asked.

"Nothing you want to hear about dearest."

Patrick walked over and scooped Angela out of the playpen. He held her close and took in her baby scent.

Shelagh watching him asked, "Is everything alright Patrick."

"Couldn't be better. I was just taking a moment to appreciate what I have," he said as he walked over to Timothy and squeezed his shoulder.

"Dad, I am in the middle of maths."

Looking over his shoulder, Patrick said, "Tim, negative one plus three is not four."

"Oh how did I miss the negative again!"

"Well you can take a break and help set the table now," Shelagh said.

When they were all sitting around the table Shelagh said, "You never answered how your day was."

"It was fine. I had an interesting conversation with Mr. Robbins."

"Oh?"

"He was very upset about not having a son to carry on the family business. I reminded him that the world was changing and soon it will be unrecognisable. We already have women in Parliament. Angela will be able be whatever she wants when she grows up."

"Well I want to be a doctor."

"Perhaps Angela will too," Shelagh added, "The world is changing rapidly. I read in Woman's Realm that there is a machine that will wash dishes! Can you imagine?"

"I would like a machine that would do my calculations for me," Timothy added.

"How about a machine that irons clothing?"

"Some day they are going to send men into space. Perhaps people will live on the moon," Tim suggested.

"In Poplar, I would like to see running water and proper sanitary conditions in every flat," Patrick added.

"Dad, that's no fun. What would you really like in the future?"

"I would like to see a vaccine for measles...and perhaps mumps."

"Why not chickenpox," Tim added.

"Tim, you should know how important vaccines are to prevent serious illnesses. Chickenpox is rarely more serious than a nuisance."

"How about one for TB?" Shelagh added.

"Yes that too. I would like a way to be contacted when I am out on a call. I don't mean those field radios they use for war. It must be small and preferable does not yell at you when you are consulting with one patient about another."

"Perhaps a tiny telephone that rings," Tim said.

"That couldn't work..it would need wires. But...how about better ways than x-ray to see internally and make diagnosis or a cure for cancer."

They were all quiet for a moment as they contemplated that vision, but is was Timothy who added, "In Scotland, they are using soundwaves to see inside. I read it is an old copy of The Lancet."

"Yes, but will that ever be available in every hospital or surgery? " Patrick added.

"Well since a dishwashing machine is only a pipe dream for me, I will need to recruit someone to dry," Shelagh announced as she stood to clear the table.

"I still have my maths and I have to do all the calculations without a magical machine," Tim said.

Patrick laughed and followed Shelagh to the kitchen after placing Angela back in the play pen.

"What else did you say to Mr. Robbins?"

"What?"

"I know you and I can tell your conversation was about more than the future."

"He made a promise to his dead father that he would carry on the 'sons' in the family business. I told him that I knew what it was like to make promises, that I could not keep. I could not keep Timothy safe."

"Oh Patrick," Shelagh said as she gave him a hug.

Holding her he continued, "What I told him was that we need to be proud of our children and give them all the love we have. I want to do that myself everyday."

"You do, Patrick, you do," squeezing his tight she said, "Go spend some time with Angela before bedtime. I can let them drip dry tonight, it the next best thing to a machine."

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Everyday, but I like hearing it," she answered.

"I heard that," Timothy called out.

They both laughed.

Note: please do not be upset about the chickenpox vaccine. Since took 20 years longer I portrayed it as lesser priority