Genevieve ran around the house checking everything was perfect. Her housekeeper, a farmer's widow who had come to her for work, had cleaned and polished, baked and filled the biscuit tin and cake box, made the beds and put fresh flowers in the rooms – it was just as it should be. Her son was coming home and bringing her granddaughter. She was on cloud nine!
"Mrs Beazley!" she called into the kitchen.
"Madame," the housekeeper smiled, "have I missed something?"
"No, Jean, it is parfait, perfect," she laughed, "Lucien will love it, and Li, oh how I am longing to see her."
"Of course, Madame," Jean Beazley smiled gently. "She is twelve, yes?"
"Almost, almost a young lady. Lucien is so proud of her, how she managed during the war, when he was away," she frowned, "I worry more about Lucien, Jean, his confinement, that awful camp …"
"I'm sure he will be fine, if we are calm and kind and love Li. A father's love, Madame? And Miss Vivienne will love her too, when she come for the weekend?" She was aware Lucien and his father had argued many times over the years and that he had not approved of him marrying a Chinese woman; Lucien's sister, Vivienne, had thought it marvellous and wrote to him regularly asking for updates on her niece and sister-in-law. But how could he not be proud of his son, who had followed him into medicine and served his king and country, survived a POW camp … she knew him, from years ago, when they were all young and carefree; she knew he was strong and good. His wife had died at the fall of Singapore, his daughter taken from his arms and only newly returned to him. Now he was coming home, his mother insisted.
"Lucien," she had written, "you have a home here, please come, we shall see what happens next. I love you, mon cher, and I so wish to meet my granddaughter." And so Lucien Blake was on his way home, an eleven year old in tow who spoke Malay and English, who had spent four years in a Chinese orphanage, and a chip on his shoulder.
"Of course, Jean," Mrs Blake had smiled, "I am sorry if it brings up sad memories …"
"My husband, Madame, died, I have my boys and though Christopher may be away in the army and Jack …" she threw up her hands, "… well, I hope he is well …"
"… he is welcome here, Jean …"
"No, Madame, not Jack, he is wild, he would not be happy here. I worry, about him, but he is …"
Mrs Blake put her hand on Jean's arm, "it is alright, Jean, our boys … we will always love them, we may not like what they do, but …" she shrugged, "c'est la vie."
Jean had come to understand some of Madame's little French sayings and just nodded her agreement.
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"Papa?" the young girl frowned at her father, "what is wrong?"
"Eh?" he looked down at her. "Oh, I just wonder if we are doing the right thing."
"But grandmama, she sounds so, so welcoming. I want to meet her and Aunt Vivi, your stories, from when you were a boy …"
"It's more your grandpapa," he grunted, "we were not friends."
"So? Maybe now, after so long away …" she took his hand, "papa, I want a home, not another hotel, can we at least stay a while?"
Lucien could never deny his daughter a thing, though he would not spoil her, but since they had found each other he was inclined to let her lead the way. Maybe it would be best, for a time, to stay at his childhood home. Get Li into school, maybe get his license to practice medicine and set up his own surgery – somewhere.
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They alighted at Ballarat station and looked around for a taxi. Lucien thought it hadn't changed, much. Busy, hustling and bustling, he held Li's hand tight.
"Blake?" A voice called from across the platform, "Lucien Blake?!"
He turned, surely not, it couldn't be, but it was, Matthew Lawson, resplendent with medal ribbons on his Inspector's uniform and with an attractive woman on his arm.
"Lawson?" Lucien threw back his head and roared with laughter, "Bloody hell, Matthew Lawson …"
"That's Inspector Lawson to you, Lucien Blake …"
"And that's Major, Dr Lucien Blake to you," the two men embraced. "God it's good to see you," Lucien held his old schoolfriend at arm's length, "what are you doing here?"
"Just meeting Dr Harvey here off the train," he pulled his companion forward, "Alice, meet my oldest friend, Dr Lucien Blake, Blake, this is Alice, my fiancée."
"Fiancée?" Lucien remembered Lawson dating another girl, before the war.
"Yeah," Matthew blushed and grinned, "been in North Africa, met Alice in Melbourne during leave …"
"Pleased to meet you, Dr Harvey," Lucien stopped him, "this is my daughter, Li."
Alice cleared her throat and shook his hand, then smiled shyly at Li.
"Dr Blake," she nodded, "Li."
Li smiled and shook the extended hand. "It's nice to meet you, Dr Harvey," she whispered.
"Where are you staying, Blake?" Matthew smiled, glad that his quiet and reserved fiancée had met someone he regarded as 'family'.
"Dad's," Lucien grimaced, "mother insisted, she wants to meet Li, so does Vivi."
"They've got a new housekeeper," Matthew thought this news was necessary. "Remember Jean Randall?"
"Dating a farmer?" he tipped his head in thought.
"Yeah, Christopher Beazley; she married him, he died in the Solomons, she was left with two boys, sold the farm and went to work for your parents."
"Ah," Lucien nodded. He appreciated the warning. He'd asked Jean out on a date a couple of times, but had never been anything other than a gentleman, her being a strict catholic and he wanting more than she was willing to give, but he had respected that – there had been something special about Jean Randall. "The boys?"
"Eldest just gone into the army, the other … well he's been in trouble … firearms, runnin' wild …"
"Poor Jean."
"Yeah, she's done ok though. Your mum loves her and your dad values her as a receptionist and secretary."
"Right."
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The taxi drew up outside the front door. Lucien noticed the hanging basket was in bloom, well-tended, the garden looked in its prime, the door was clean and the handle and knocker were shining in the late afternoon sun.
"Here we are, Li," he paid the driver, "ready?"
"Of course, papa," she grinned. Li was so much more optimistic than he was, he thought. He saw only arguments, recriminations, she saw love, a family, safety.
He knocked on the door.
"Yes?" the woman who opened the door was as familiar as his mother.
"Jean?"
"Lucien, er," she cleared her throat, "Dr Lucien, you're here," she stood to one side, "come in, welcome home."
He stepped in and recognised the old familiar smell of polish and flowers.
"You must be Miss Li," he heard Jean behind him, "welcome."
Li blinked, not sure what to call this pretty, friendly woman.
"My name is Jean Beazley, I am your grandmother's housekeeper, you can call me Mrs Beazley, or Jean, whichever pleases you."
"Oh," Li gasped, "you are so pretty. May I call you Jean?"
"You may," Jean smiled, "welcome, Li."
Li looked at her and had the desperate need to fall into her arms, into the arms of a mother who had known loss. Instead she just smiled.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Jean whispered back that she was pleased to meet her and stood to one side to allow her to follow her father.
"Good to see you again, Jean," Lucien hummed, "my condolences – I saw Matthew Lawson at the station."
"Thank you, Lucien," she nodded, "your mother is waiting in the living room, please go on through, Vivi is due at the weekend."
"My father?"
"In the surgery, his last patient," she hummed.
"Ah," Lucien straightened his jacket and took Li's hand, "let's go and meet your grandmama, shall we?"
"I'll see to your luggage."
"Leave it, Jean, I'll lug it through later, my old room?"
"For you, yes, I've put Li upstairs, the back bedroom." Jean pulled the suitcases through into the hall, "if that's acceptable."
"Lovely, it's a nice light room, if I remember rightly."
"Early morning sun …" she agreed.
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Genevieve was sitting on the couch, an open magazine in her hands that she was not reading. She had considered letting Lucien in herself but Jean had suggested she calm herself – it wasn't just her son who was coming home.
"Madame," Jean smiled, "he's here."
She stood up and smoothed down her skirt.
"Maman," he murmured.
"Oh Lucien," she held out her arms, "mon cher."
It had been so long since he had seen her and she had changed, physically, but her love for her impetuous and stubborn son had never wavered. They hugged, he noticed she smelled of lavender, that she was smaller, maybe as tall as Jean, and slender.
Genevieve held him at arms-length and smiled. "So strong, the beard, I like it but you need feeding up, mais, it is only to be expected, mon cher, Jean's cooking will soon deal with that. Now, where is this granddaughter of mine, eh? The one you keep telling me about."
Lucien kissed her forehead and reached behind him to pull Li forward.
"This is Li, maman, your granddaughter …"
"Oh my, what a beautiful young lady," Genevieve held out her arms, "come, child, give your grandmama a hug, eh? I do not bite."
Li stepped forward shyly and allowed her grandmother to wrap her in a warm embrace. She relaxed and settled her head just below Genevieve's chin, it was … it was home.
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Jean warmed the teapot and spooned in the leaves. She had set a tray with a plate of homemade biscuits and small cakes, cups and saucers, milk and sugar. If Li did not drink tea she had fresh lemonade in the fridge and orange squash she could have.
"Miss Li," Jean carried the tray through, "would you like tea, or would you prefer lemonade or orange squash – we have both."
"Oh, Jean," Li gasped, "may I have lemonade, please. I am still not sure about European tea."
Jean had wondered. "Dr Lucien?"
"Tea, thank you, and drop the 'doctor', Lucien will do just fine, Jean." He smiled up at her, after all, he had thought, he had dated her a couple of times, and he wasn't given to formalities.
"Shall I take a cup through to Dr Blake, and inform him his son has arrived?" Jean was glad he had cut through the slight tension, she had fond memories of the times he had taken her out. Her mother had told her not to set her sights too high, she was destined to be a farmer's wife and that young Beazley boy was good enough for her. Except he wasn't, he was not respectful, he had wandering hands; she shook herself out of the old memories and brought herself back to the here and now.
"He has Miss Clasby with him, Jean, he will be forever if you don't," Genevieve laughed.
"Miss Nell?" Lucien raised his eyebrows.
"Yes."
"Miss Nell, Li," he turned to his daughter, "used to sneak me and your aunt sweets when she came for her appointments, I must say hello before she leaves."
"I think you're a little old to have a sneaky bon-bon," his mother shook her head and smiled.
"Oh, really, do you think so?" he teased. "Here, Jean, I'll take the tea," he held out his hand for the cup and saucer.
"If you want."
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Thomas looked up from writing Nell's latest prescription; usually he was not disturbed during surgery, but he had vaguely heard the knock at the front door and wondered if Lucien had arrived at last – Genevieve would be pleased he was home.
"Sorry to interrupt, doctor," Lucien hummed, "we are having tea in the living room." He turned to Thomas' patient, "hello, Miss Nell, how lovely to see you."
"Lucien!" she jumped up from her seat, "oh, dear boy, how lovely to see you home. Thomas, isn't it wonderful?" she dared Lucien's father to disagree with her.
Thomas cleared his throat and stood up, "Son," he grunted, "yes, well, welcome home." He didn't see the rebellious child before him, he saw a grown man, strong, a man who had seen much and not all of it good. "Did you bring Li?"
"Of course, she's with maman and Jean," Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, though his father could not really start an argument in front of a patient – especially if that patient was Nell Clasby who would chastise him and tell him not to be such a cussed old fool.
"Good …"
"Li?" Nell frowned.
"My daughter, she's nearly twelve." Lucien smiled properly this time, "would you like to meet her?"
"Oh Lucien, I would love to, if it won't be too much for the poor child."
"I think she'll be alright with it, I told her about the sneaky sweets …" his eyes twinkled.
"You're too old," she teased, "but Li isn't."
"Ah, maman said as much," he pouted.
"Silly boy."
Lucien offered her his arm, "coming, father?" he looked over his shoulder.
Thomas sighed, he supposed he could finish his paperwork later.
"Prescription, Nell," he handed her the paper.
"Thank you, Thomas," she smiled, tucked it in her handbag and allowed Lucien to escort her through to Genevieve and Li.
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"Well," Nell stood up about half an hour later, "I really must be going. It really is lovely to meet you, Li, I'm so glad you brought your father home. Thank you for the tea, Genevieve, Jean … I shall see you all again, soon, I hope."
"Thank you for the sweet, Miss Clasby," Li smiled, "papa is quite jealous, I'm sure."
"He's too old for such treats, dear." She patted Li's hand.
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As the evening wore on and they dined, Thomas began to thaw and see that Lucien was where he should be. Li captivated him and by the end of the meal he was completely under her spell.
Jean helped Li unpack in her room while her father and grandparents started to get to know each other again.
"This room is lovely, Jean," she put her clean clothes in the drawers and wardrobe, "and you put flowers for me."
"I think they brighten up any room, don't you?"
"Oh yes, it was one thing I miss at the orphanage, flowers. We didn't even grow them, just vegetables."
"Then you shall have fresh flowers in your room all the time, dear, and why don't you come and see the sunroom, tomorrow? I grow plants in there, begonias mainly, and the garden; your grandmama has some lovely flowers and shrubs – we work it together." Jean passed her her pyjamas. "I shall put the clothes you have worn in the laundry …"
"We used the laundries in the hotels," Li sighed, "I had to put my name in all my clothes."
"I think I can work out which are yours," Jean laughed, "now, put your toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, and any toiletries you want to keep in there. There are fresh towels for both of you. My bedroom is just there," she pointed down the landing, "if you need anything in the night you may wake me. I'd hate for you to fall down the stairs in the dark trying to find your father. Your aunt's room is as the far end."
"Papa has nightmares, sometimes," Li looked down at the floor, "he must have had a dreadful time, Jean."
"I know sweetheart," Jean sat on the bed next to her, "but we shan't dwell on it, and only let him talk about it if he wants to. He may not want to worry his mother or father."
"Or you," Li took her hand, "he said you dated?" she frowned.
"It was a long time ago, Li, when we were young and before he went away to study, but he was kind, and polite; he always saw me to my door, and kissed my hand."
"I'm glad he was kind and polite."
"Yes," Jean smiled, but she was not going to admit she had always been a little bit in love with Lucien Blake.
"Jean?"
"Yes, Li."
"Do you mind me asking about your husband?"
"Christopher was a farmer, a hard worker, we had two sons, but he went away to fight in the war and was killed. My life is here now, with your grandparents, and they have been very kind to me," she straightened her back, "to be honest, Li, it's not like working, I enjoy cooking, your grandfather is a good man, and your grandmother treats me a bit like another daughter with chores to do." She laughed. "Your aunt and I were good friends once upon a time, and we are still friends now."
"I'm glad you're here, Jean, thank you."
"Come on, Miss, into bed with you then I shall send you father up to tuck you in and wish you goodnight."
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"All yours, Lucien," Jean nodded in the direction of the stairs, "she's tucked up, just needs a goodnight kiss from you."
"Thank you, Jean, I hope she wasn't too much trouble."
"Li is no trouble at all, Lucien, she is a lovely little girl, I'm glad you brought her home."
"Nell suggested it was Li that brought me home."
Jean shrugged and smiled. "Maybe."
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"Papa," Li reached out with one hand, "thank you for bringing me here."
"You have charmed your grandpapa …"
"So we will stay?"
"We will stay … for now. I need to get my license to practice medicine, again, you need to go to school, we need a home."
"Here, papa, we have a home here." She opened her eyes wide.
"Yes, I suppose we do." He sighed. "Good night, Li, sleep well." He kissed her forehead and tidied the clothes round her.
"Good night, papa," she yawned.
He closed the door and leant against the door jamb, maybe she was right, maybe he could continue to build bridges with his father.
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Jean left Lucien to talk to his parents and went to bed a little earlier than usual. Genevieve insisted she join them for a drink after dinner as was the custom, and they talked of the past, before the war and that Lucien intended to start practicing as a GP again.
"Your father could always use a partner," Genevieve suggested.
"Now, Gen …" Thomas started; Jean decided now was a good time to leave them to it. She bid them goodnight and the two men stood as she left the room. "… you know how it went last time I thought about having a partner."
"Yes mon cher, but he wasn't Lucien and he kept arriving late for surgery … at least if you are called out for Police Surgeon duties Jean won't have to alter appointments." She sipped her drink and raised an eyebrow. "Or he could take the Police Surgeon duties."
"And what does that entail?" Lucien was intrigued.
"Being called out day or night," Thomas grunted, "bodies, miscreants in the cells that need the once over, autopsies …"
"Sounds interesting, and I don't sleep well so a night call would be no bother."
"You always did love a puzzle, Lucien," his mother smiled. Police Surgeon duties were the one thing she hated Thomas doing, leaving her in the middle of the night to heaven knew what, and more than once an occupant of the cells had given him a thump before the attending office could stop them. Lucien would be more agile, able to dodge a fist, she hoped.
"Well, I'll have to get my licence back, first," he swirled his whisky round in his glass.
"Shouldn't be too difficult," Thomas hummed. Genevieve was right, he hated the late night calls to mangled messes that were once human beings, he was getting too old for that.
So, it was settled. As soon as Lucien got his licence to practice he would take over the call outs to murders, unexplained deaths and car accidents though he was reminded he should run it past Matthew first, and perhaps do an occasional surgery.
Genevieve was pleased, and strangely, Thomas found he was also pleased … and relieved.
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Jean lay in bed and wondered how she would feel if Lucien stayed. Something had been ignited in her when he stood there on the doorstep, smartly dressed, hair smoothed down with pomade, beard neatly trimmed – a grown man and not the gentle teenager she had remembered. This was his home, hers since Christopher had died, but it was his more than hers. She thought she had put away those teenage thoughts about him, when she was a little bit in love with him, because he was out of her reach – according to her mother – and she had married within her station in life because she had to. Everybody who was around at that time knew why she married at seventeen, but not everybody knew Christopher as a husband; how he had not mourned the little girl they had lost, had not comforted her, how he had been delighted at the birth of two sons but did nothing to help her with them – that was 'women's work' – and still expected her to keep the small house clean and tidy and his meals on the table when he came in from the fields. It wasn't the life she had hoped for, neither was this, but it was better than she had before. She sighed and ran her hands down her sides to her hips and stopped. What she thought was a sin. She tossed and turned and eventually fell asleep.
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Li was overjoyed the next morning when her father told her they would be staying. She hugged him, hugged her grandmother and grandfather and hugged Jean as she put breakfast on the table. No more hotels, no more trains from town to town, a home, her own room, people who loved her, family.
Lucien watched her from the kitchen door and knew he had made the right decision for her, for him, well he would have to wait and see though he too had a sense of belonging, one he hadn't had for a long time. He smiled to himself as Jean set a plate of bacon and bubble and squeak in front of Li and smoothed her hair down.
"If that's bubble and squeak I hope you've left some for me," he stepped into the room. "Good morning, Jean."
"Morning, Lucien, and yes there is some for you, sit down, I'll get you a plate." She looked up and smiled, "tea in the pot."
"Lovely," he sat and poured himself a cup, "and what does the day hold, today?" he looked around.
"Your father has his rounds at the hospital then surgery, I believe your mother will be in her studio and I have to go to the market." She set a plate in front of him.
"Can I come to the market with you, Jean?" Li paused with her fork half way to her mouth, "I've only been to Chinese markets before."
"It will be very different," Lucien smiled as Jean placed a plate in front of him, "but if Jean doesn't mind I don't."
"I don't mind at all. I was going to go down with your grandfather when he went to the hospital, but we will have to walk back."
"Alright, I can do that," Li agreed, though she wasn't sure how far the walk would be. "I can help you carry things."
"That's kind of you, Miss Li," Jean wondered what the townspeople would think when they saw her with Li. She hoped they wouldn't stare too much.
"Right," Lucien picked up his fork, "well in that case, I shall ring the medical board and see what I need to do to get my licence back."
"Moving fast, Lucien," Thomas stepped up to the table.
"May as well, father, then I can start to work."
"True. Genevieve in the studio?"
"Yes," Jean put a plate of bacon and egg in front of him, "she said something about catching the early morning sun."
"Ah," he nodded as if he understood art – he didn't, but as long as his wife was happy, so was he.
"Does she still exhibit?" Lucien swallowed.
"She does, Melbourne, mainly, and once a month she goes to the art department of the university and teaches. She tried teaching here, but they didn't like a female artist."
"Philistines," Lucien muttered.
"Quite."
"What's wrong with a female artist?" Li looked from one to the other.
"Nothing at all," her grandfather shook his head, "there have been plenty before her and there will be plenty after her."
"Some men, Li, think women are only good for looking after the house and children, not having careers, being artists and doctors," Jean took her plate to the sink.
"That's silly," Li huffed, "papa says I can do anything, Mr Lawson's fiancée is a doctor."
"Matthew's engaged?" Jean stopped what she was doing and stared at her.
"Met her yesterday at the station," Lucien smirked, "he was meeting her off the train, Dr Alice Harvey."
"Oh, her," Thomas nodded, "yes, she's the one taken on at the hospital; senior pathologist and occasional assistant in the morgue. You remember, Jean, I was on the interview panel about a month ago. I had no idea she was engaged to Matthew."
"Not pertinent to the interview, was it?" Lucien frowned.
"Well, if she's getting married …"
"Nothing to stop her carrying on working, is there?" Jean looked from one to the other.
"Er …"
"I don't think she looks the type to give it all up for a man, even if that man is Matthew Lawson," Lucien mused, "I suggest we invite them to dinner," looked around, "if you don't mind, Jean," he added, hastily.
"I don't mind, do you, Thomas?"
"He's an old friend, Jean, of all of us, go ahead, Lucien."
"If Dr Harvey is new to the town she won't have any friends," Li observed, "maybe we should be her friends."
"That's a lovely thought, Miss Li," Jean smiled.
"It's not nice, going somewhere where you don't know anyone and you're on your own," Li sighed, remembering being thrust into an orphanage and not knowing where her father was.
Lucien leaned over and put his arms round her. He kissed her head and looked across at his father.
"No, Li, you're right," Thomas agreed, "we must make her welcome."
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Jean and Li spent a happy morning in the market. If asked, Jean introduced Li as Dr Blake's granddaughter and said that his son had come home. Some asked after his wife and while Jean wasn't sure what to say in front of Li; Li was confident enough to tell them her mother had been killed when the Japanese overran Singapore.
"Ah," nodded Susan Tyneman, "sorry to hear that."
"But we are here, now, papa says we are staying," Li smiled. "He says I will go to school here."
"Oh, right, which school?"
"We don't know yet, Dr Lucien will have to look around and see which one he thinks will suit Miss Li best," Jean dared her to say something about not sending her where her boy, Edward, was; she could see it in her eyes.
"Of course, most sensible."
"Come along, Miss Li," Jean adjusted her hold on her basket, "let's go and see what fruit is available, you can tell me what you and your father like in particular."
"Ok," Li grinned, "nice to have met you Mrs Tyneman."
As they drew away Li's smile fell, "she's not really friendly, is she Jean?"
"Well, I suppose not really, cordial, I suppose, she's never obviously rude. Her husband is on the council and the hospital board; he considers himself above the rest of us."
"Oh, hmm, so we aren't inviting them for dinner, then?"
"No, dear, I doubt it."
"Why does she care which school I go to?"
"They have a son, Edward, a little older than you …"
"So she doesn't want me to go to the same school … because of who I am?"
"I don't know, love, but don't you worry, your father will sort that out and your grandfather will not stand for any nonsense."
Li shrugged and skipped happily beside Jean, knowing that she was loved by her and her family so what other people thought of her was not important – at the moment.
"Look!" she pointed to a far stall, "there's Inspector Lawson, shall we invite him to dinner?"
"That's what we decided at home," Jean agreed, "might as well do it now, instead of waiting for your grandfather to do it."
"Or papa, he can be forgetful, if he gets something else on his mind."
"Is that so?" Jean raised an eyebrow, "I hope he didn't forget anything important?"
"Someone was mean about me, in one of the hotels, he went after them to set them straight, so he said, and nearly forgot to pay the bill."
"Ah, I see."
"Good morning, Jean," Matthew had seen them and wandered towards them, "and Miss Li, how are we today?"
"We are well, Matthew," Jean smiled, "and how are you?"
"Just fine and dandy," he grinned, "it's been a quiet morning – so far."
"Papa wants to know if you and Dr Harvey would like to come to dinner," Li looked up at Jean to check it was alright for her to issue the invitation, "to welcome her to Ballarat."
"And what about your welcome, Miss Li?" he teased.
"Oh, I've got a whole new family, Mr Lawson, Dr Harvey only has you," she laughed.
"Am I not enough?"
"Matthew, don't be silly," Jean shook her head, "if Dr Harvey is to work at the hospital she will need friends, especially as she's a woman, you know how some of those doctors are. What night would suit you?"
"Oh, er, well, I'm working until Saturday, but I do have Sunday off …"
"Sunday lunch?"
"Sounds perfect, and I know Alice, er, that is Dr Harvey is free on Sunday."
"Lovely, twelve-thirty for one, then?"
"We'll be there, thanks."
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"Sunday lunch, eh?" Lucien rubbed his hands.
"Well, that's when Matthew said they'd both be free," Jean set the kettle to boil, "has your mother finished in the studio?"
"Can I go and see?" Li looked from one to the other.
"Knock first," Jean nodded, "she doesn't like to be surprised if she's in the middle of painting."
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Genevieve stood back and considered the painting in front of her. Almost finished, she thought, just her signature gold leaf to be added. "Come!" she called, absent-mindedly, in answer to the gentle knock on the door.
"It's only me, grandmama, can I come in?" Li poked her nose into the room.
"Oui, of course, cherie," Genevieve smiled, I have almost finished."
Li scooted in and went to stand by her and look at the painting.
"Oh," she tipped her head to the side, "how lovely."
"You don't have to be polite just because I am your grandmother," Genevieve smiled.
"But I do like it," Li insisted, "I haven't seen anything like it, before; papa took me round art galleries if there was one in the town we were staying in, but I never saw anything like this."
"I have just to put on the gold leaf," she picked up a tiny scrap of the shiny material, "see, I use it to highlight."
Li looked on as the painting seemed to take on another life, the gold leaf lifted it and gave it tiny sparkles of sunlight and raindrops on the flowers Genevieve had painted.
"And watch …" Genevieve took another scrap of leaf and held it above the fireplace, she let it go and it floated up to join many others on the ceiling.
"Wow," Li breathed, "beautiful."
"Your papa used to love watching that when he was a little boy," she put her brush down, "so, Li, did you want me?"
"Jean is putting lunch out," Li smiled, "if you're ready for something to eat."
"Oh, right, I had lost track of time."
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"So, how was your trip to the market?" Lucien passed the cold meat round the table.
"Good," Li smiled, "there were a lot of people, we met Mrs Tyneman – I don't think she wants me to go to the same school as her son …"
"Young Edward Tyneman thinks he is entitled to anything he wants," Thomas huffed, "you're not missing anything."
"Patrick's boy?" Lucien frowned.
"The very same," Jean confirmed, "and as pompous as his father," she huffed.
Lucien raised his eyebrows but his father just nodded in agreement.
"He is not a nice child," Genevieve delicately broke a piece of bread, "quite rude."
Thomas reached over and patted her hand, "we don't need the approval of the likes of him, dear."
"Which school does Edward go to?" Lucien asked.
"St Patrick's, I believe," Jean passed the water jug to Li.
"Ah, right, well that discounts that. There is always Ballarat West, where me and Matthew went, or Wendouree Grammar …"
"I would try for the grammar," Genevieve took an apple, "of course there will be an entrance exam …"
"Not Ballarat West, maman?"
"That dreadful Donald MacAvoy is still there, the one who beat up Matthew …"
"You have a long memory, maman," Lucien teased, "but you're right he was a bully."
"Worse now that he teaches there."
"Really?"
"Sadly, yes."
Lucien gave this some thought; sending Li where a man he knew to be a bully to anyone, Matthew because his father was a drunk and a gambler, himself because of his name and others too numerous to think about, taught was not on his 'to do' list. No, he would see about the entrance exam to the Grammar. As they had travelled, Lucien had tried to supplement Li's basic education with trips to art galleries, museums and bought her books to read. He had also taught her maths and some science and she had soaked it up like a sponge. He had every faith in her.
"So, son," Thomas changed the subject, "how did you get on with the medical board?"
"Got to go to Melbourne for a meeting, they didn't think there'd be much problem," Lucien nodded, "made an appointment for tomorrow. I'll go up by train, should be back for dinner."
"Can I come to Melbourne with you, papa?" Li looked hopeful, she wasn't used to being left, it brought up memories.
"I'll be in a boring meeting all day, love, unless you fancy a trip, maman?"
"I need to finish this painting for an exhibition, otherwise I'd love to." Genevieve hated to disappoint but the exhibition was fast approaching and she had promised several works, "but, why don't you go Jean? I'm sure Thomas can spare you for one day."
"That would work," Lucien agreed, "If I give you some money, Li's wardrobe is in need of filling out, I'm no good at buying girl's clothes, and maybe, if I get a break we could meet up for lunch somewhere."
"What's the surgery like for tomorrow, Jean?" Thomas sighed, Jean was supposed to be his receptionist, not Li's nanny.
"Light, you have rounds at the hospital as usual, but only three appointments."
"I can let them in," Genevieve nodded, "I will have to have a short break, anyway, so … "
"Capital!" Lucien grinned, "that's settled."
"He always was impetuous, Jean," Genevieve sighed.
"Like you," Thomas smiled lovingly. "Do you think that will suit, Li, I mean you are the one who wants to go?"
"I think that will be lovely." Li agreed, she would get to be in the same city as her father and spend more time with Jean who was kind to her.
