After a fitful night's sleep, Vivi showered and dressed. She still hadn't worked out if she should offer Bill the spare room, or ask Lucien if he had any bright ideas, all she had worked out was that she had fallen for him. She wondered why. He was reasonably good looking, not film star looks but pleasant enough, he was kind, he wasn't pushy or had a tendency to overstep the boundaries, he fought for right, he was reliable … he was everything her previous dalliances hadn't been. They had been passing fancies who she hadn't even got to know a little bit, she knew Bill, she knew his past, about his family, she knew him, just not in the biblical sense.

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Lucien lay on his back with Jean draped over him like a warm silk sheet. They had made love, kissed and cuddled and now sated, lay in loving silence.

"You're thinking," she hummed sleepily.

"Hm, oh, Vivi, Bill, the children …"

"Way too much to bother your brain with, dear." She giggled softly. "What about Vivi?"

"Just wondering if maman will give her the same talk she gave me, about you. Letting me know they wholly approved if I was to pursue you."

"She did?"

"She did," he traced lazy circles on her naked shoulder, "I had wondered if I should, if they would be bothered about it, about us … oh, you know," he huffed.

"I know, love," she kissed his chest. "They've always treated me as a member of the family, so although I had my doubts, as you know, I thought that if it was to be so then they would be alright with it. So, hopefully they won't have that conversation with Vivi, she has enough to worry about …"

"The scars?"

She nodded against his chest.

"Bill's got one, on his side." He mumbled, "I saw it when I was strapping up his ribs. He'll understand, if, and only if, she lets him in."

"Hm, she's never let herself fall, before," Jean frowned.

"I think she did, once, briefly, but got hurt, or got out before she got hurt, she was never quite clear about that when she wrote. I wonder if Bill ever set his cap at someone."

"I'm sure he has had his moments, Lucien, he's a very different person off the job."

"So it would seem."

Jean let her eyelids fall, with a bit of luck she'd get a few hours before one of the babies needed her. She was thinking about weaning them, she thought they were both ready, Jacob was only a week behind Jennifer in age and he was a hungry baby.

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"Bill seems to be doing well," Alice slipped into bed next to Matthew and cuddled close.

"Yeah, he'll be back at work soon, Blake says, light duties."

"Are he and Vivi …?"

"Who knows," he shrugged, "I don't think they do."

"Has Bill ever had a girlfriend? I mean he seems a good man …" she didn't quite know what she was trying to say.

"A few, almost got engaged once, then he saw her with Evie and found her cruel, apparently. He reasoned that if he wanted a family she wouldn't make a good mother, or a good aunt to Evie. Bill won't have kiddies hurt, or women, he's old fashioned, and, well you saw him with Millie …"

"I saw Millie with him," she smiled against his shoulder, "if a child who has gone through what she has can recognise a good man, who are we to argue."

"Perhaps he'll be a godfather," he stroked her small bump, "if we ask nicely."

"What do you want, Matthew? Boy or girl?"

"I don't mind, as long as you both are ok, whatever it is we'll love it."

"Yeah." That satisfied her, most men seemed to want a son, it was good that he didn't mind, she didn't either.

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Vivi went to her office and made a call to her financial advisor friend. She told him what they had managed to get the previous day and wondered if he would be free to come over if she made an appointment with the bank manager.

"Sure," he sat with his feet up on his desk, "what do you want to do?"

"A trust fund, for each of them, proviso for each other's fund to go to the other should one die or …" that wasn't a pleasant thought, "well, you know. I also want the interest to be high, and not to change down, if that's at all possible. These two kiddies have gone to hell and back they deserve comfort when they need it. Oh, trustees, how do we go about that? They have no relatives."

"Who are they with, now?"

"My brother and his wife. The boy wouldn't take a bottle and Jean is feeding their daughter so Lucien offered her services, he's thrived. They are almost part of the family and as Lucien went through hell in a Japanese POW camp he's well served to guide the older child; at least that's what I told Family Welfare."

"Sounds reasonable, but it's not official, is it?"

"Not yet, but that's up to Jean and Lucien, really. Do they want to keep the children, and if they don't, they'll have to go to the orphanage and then they might get split up and that wouldn't be good," her voice went from excited and desperate to sad and lost.

"You need a family lawyer," he hummed, "unless you are prepared to take it on."

"Oh, I can do family law," she agreed, "I know what would be good for them. I'll talk to Lucien, see what he advises."

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Lucien dropped Li off at school.

"Millie didn't have nearly as bad a nightmare last night," she had yawned at breakfast, "I wonder if it has something to do with Sergeant Hobart."

Jean had watched the little girl silently eat her breakfast and wiped her face. She and Lucien really needed to talk about the children; Millie was her little shadow, or Genevieve's, if she wasn't around, as if she had to make sure no one was going to take her away. She was only two, two-year-olds shouldn't have to have worries like that, they shouldn't have worries at all.

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"Papa," Li paused as she slung her bag over her shoulder, "what's going to happen to Millie and Jacob?"

"We have to talk, me and Jean," he sighed, "we both have concerns about Millie because of what she went through and the effect it is having on her."

"Would you let them stay, if the authorities let you keep them?"

"I worry what would happen to them if we let them go, love, they need to be kept together."

"Can't Aunt Vivi sort it out."

"You place a lot of faith in her," he smiled, "but I think they need a court appointed lawyer."

"Let's hope they appoint her, then."

"Yeah," he nodded, "you have a good day."

"You too, see you later."

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Li had given voice to Lucien's thoughts, a court appointed lawyer, Vivi, the children staying with them; he could cope with that, but it was Jean that had the work to do, damn, he needed to talk to his wife, pronto.

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"Lucien?" Jean raised her eyebrows, "is something wrong?"

"Um, no, er yes, maybe," he gulped. "The babies … Mille and Jacob?"

"Oh," she took his hand, "you've been thinking, again."

"Well, it was Li …"

Don't blame her."

Yes, no, I don't, but," he took her hands and sighed, "Millie, Jacob …"

"I always wanted a big family, Lucien, comes of being Catholic, I suppose, but, that aside, I love them, as if they were my own. I worry about them just the same, Millie, of course, Jacob knows no difference … but that isn't it, is it?"

"We are foster parents, Jean, unofficially, only because young Jacob wouldn't take a bottle, Vivi has got their father to sign away his money, but they are still without a proper family."

"They have a proper family, darling, here …"

"You know that, I know that, maman, father, Vivi, Bill Matthew, Alice … hell the whole of Ballarat thinks of them as our children, Jean," he ran his hands through his hair, "but the authorities will have a completely different view. If you want them to stay, to adopt them, we are going to have one hell of a battle on our hands."

"It's not just me, though," she pulled him to the kitchen, "you have to agree, to believe we can be parents to them, to love them, to raise them to be good children, and Family Welfare are bound to bring up Jack, my Jack …"

"Jack is not your fault," he took her hand, "Jack needed a firm hand, a father's hand; the war took that away from him; Jack is not your fault."

"But they will blame me, I'm his mother."

"Well, we'd best get you a good lawyer," he smiled, "Jean, please, I love you, the children love you …"

"Do they?"

"You doubt it? Mille follows you around, Jacob wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you." He turned her to face him, "it will be alright, if you want it to be."

"I do, Lucien, I do. I know it's hard work, being a parent is, but it's rewarding, and if I have you with me I know it is possible."

"Good," he slapped his hands on the table, "so, adoption?"

"It would give them stability," she nodded, "yes."

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Vivi instinctively knew she would have an uphill battle with the authorities. It was easy for Lucien to have her as his lawyer, but the children were not old enough to appoint one for themselves and Family Welfare tended to stick to the same lawyer who usually went with what they wanted. She needed to speak to a judge.

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Genevieve huffed, put down her paintbrush and went to answer the door. Jean had apologised but Jacob needed feeding and Lucien was out. It was a woman, middle aged, in a severe tweed suit, greying hair in a severe bun under an equally severe hat. She carried a briefcase in her gloved hands and peered at Genevieve through steel-rimmed glasses.

"Mrs Blake?" she frowned.

"One of them," Genevieve straightened her back, "which one do you want?" though she knew perfectly well it wasn't her the woman wanted to speak to.

"Mrs Jean Blake?"

"Ah, my daughter-in-law," she smiled, "may I ask what it is in connection with?"

"I'm from Family Welfare," the woman made to step inside; Genevieve did not move. "It's about the children?"

"Which children?" Genevieve was going to be as obstructive as possible.

"Millicent and Jacob Rivers."

"Ah," she nodded thoughtfully, "Jean is feeding Jacob at the moment."

"I can wait."

"You'd better come in, then," Genevieve finally stepped aside and led the woman into the living room. Peter and Millie were playing with a puzzle with large pieces and some building blocks. They looked up when Genevieve entered.

"Have you finished that puzzle yet?" she went over to them, "clever children." Millie held her arms up to be lifted, the new arrival unnerved her, Peter wasn't so sure either and held onto her skirts.

"Oh," the woman raised an eyebrow, "which ones are these?"

Genevieve frowned, "Millie and Peter," she didn't think the woman was as well informed as she ought to be.

"Millie Rivers?" She opened her bag and took out a file. "Says here that Millie is two years old, Jacob a baby. Is this Millie?"

"Yes," Genevieve sat down and pulled both children onto her lap.

"Mémé?" Peter looked at Genevieve.

"Shush," she kissed him, "it's alright, Peter."

"So, this one is …?"

"Peter, my grandson."

"How many children are there in the house?"

"Four small ones and Li, who is sixteen."

"Li?"

"My eldest granddaughter;" she frowned, "you haven't been told much about is, have you?"

"Just that the Rivers children were removed from their home after their parents died."

"Their father is still alive," she set the children on the floor, "go and find maman, Peter, take Millie with you."

He took Millie by the hand and they trotted off to the nursery where Jean would be with the babies.

"Their father murdered their mother," Genevieve settled on the couch, "in a fit of rage. Jacob wouldn't take a bottle so when my son, Dr Blake, was in the hospital patching up the Sergeant who rescued them, he offered to bring him here, because Jean is feeding her baby. Rivers is awaiting the hangman's noose."

The woman, who had still to introduce herself, flicked through the file to confirm all that Genevieve had told her.

"I wasn't told about their father," she nodded, "can you tell me more?"

"Not really," Genevieve hummed, "Millie seems to be settling down, she is unsure of strangers and has a tendency to follow myself or Jean around the house. Jacob, of course, is too young to know what is going on; he is being fed and is thriving. My daughter is a lawyer and is trying to arrange a trust fund for them, money was found in an account held by their father, then there is the matter of where they will live."

"Hm, that is what I am here for, really," the woman sat back, "there is the orphanage …"

"My son feels that moving Millie around would not help her, she needs stability, to feel she is loved. He understands her as does Li."

"And that would be because?"

"Lucien was a prisoner of the Japanese and Li spent some time in a Chinese orphanage during the war, as her mother was killed. We have the room here; Jean says it is like having two sets of twins and I have suggested we engage a cleaner to help her in the house."

The woman sat and thought about this. From what she could see the house was clean and tidy, the woman she was talking too was well-dressed and lightly made up. The children she had seen were also well dressed, Millie didn't seem to be dressed in second hand or op shop clothes. She had heard about the Blakes, her supervisor had been a little bit scathing about them, but she thought that could be envy. It seemed to her to be counterproductive to put the children in Mount Clear and then to try and find adoptive parents, and, she sighed, if Jacob needed breast-feeding then he needed to stay where he was. Well, she had been told to go and sort it out and she thought she had, so before she even met Mrs Jean Blake, she had made her decision; if it was acceptable to the Blake family she would recommend that Millie and Jacob remained there and if they were amenable adopted into the family. She was just about to speak when Jean came through with two babies in her arms and Peter and Mille either side of her.

"I was told we had a visitor," she smiled, "is that … no, really, Audrey Brown, well this is a surprise!"

"Jean Randall?" Audrey gasped, "well, I'd heard you'd married, but I never thought it was to Dr Blake; how are you?"

"Hands full," Jean laughed. "Sorry, Genevieve, Audrey and I were at school together, until you moved to Mildura, wasn't it?"

"Aha," Audrey nodded, "dad got a job there and dragged us over."

"And now you're back?"

"I got a transfer from FW here, and I thought it would be nice to come home. I missed Ballarat."

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've come to see how Millie and Jacob are and how the land lies. All I knew was that their parents were no longer around and they were in need of a permanent home," she shifted so Jean could sit down, "the boss is looking at Mount Clear unless I have any bright ideas."

"And do you?" Jean frowned, she and Lucien did not want them to go there.

"Well, with the extra information your mother-in-law has provided I am thinking they should remain here, if that's ok with you, with a view to adoption if that's what you want."

"We thought we'd have a battle on our hands," Jean sighed with relief. "FW don't exactly have a good reputation around here."

"Don't I know it," she shrugged, "my supervisor has the idea that people like you are 'do-gooders' and the children should be grateful to be looked after at the orphanage. Sometimes it seems as if she blames the children for being orphans."

"Is there anything else you need to know?" Jean thought this was a rather quick assessment of their suitability to be parents.

"Well, I'd like to have a look round, see how you are housing the children, of course. It's just a formality, Jean, I know you, I know of your husband … and I have met your lovely mother-in-law," she smiled.

"Well, perhaps if I show you where they sleep, first?"

"Lovely."

"I'll make some tea," Genevieve let out a sigh of relief, "come, mes enfants," she took the children by hand, "let's go and see if maman has made any biscuits, eh?"

At the mention of biscuits Millie and Peter brightened and happily went with her into the kitchen.

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"So," Jean sat on her bed, "as you see we haven't made any special provision for them, Millie has her own room and I suppose in the fullness of time she will share with Jennifer and Peter will share with Jacob. If we are to be allowed to adopt them then we shall get another cot for Jacob – he shares with Jennifer at the moment."

"They are very close in age," Audrey hummed.

"Jennifer is a week older than Jacob and Millie and Peter are a month apart, Peter is the younger one. We often say it is like having two sets of twins."

"And Millie and Peter get on together?"

"So far, Peter is very kind to her, he's a gentle soul, anyway. Millie is very quiet, most of the time. She says little, though she did call Sergeant Hobart a 'nice man' the other night and thanked him. I think she may remember him from that awful night as the man that saved her life." Jean frowned, "Lucien's sister is a lawyer and is prepared to take on their case if she has to. She's arranging for the money Rivers had in an account to be put into a trust fund until they are twenty-five."

"Do we know where the money came from?" she raised an eyebrow.

"We believe from the sale of his parents' newsagents, apparently. Vivi, Sergeant Hobart and Inspector Lawson went to see him and have him sign the transfer papers."

"Willingly?"

"I believe so," Jean smiled sweetly, she didn't think Audrey needed to know about the 'persuasion' aspect of the visit, "after all, he won't need it, will he?"

"Not where he's going," Audrey agreed. "Well, Jean, the house is lovely, the garden is enclosed so there is no chance of either of the children wandering off; you obviously care deeply for your family so I am going to recommend adoption, as I said before, and try to get it through as quickly as possible, for everybody's sakes."

"Oh, Audrey, that would be lovely," Jean smiled, "let's go and have some tea and if there's anything I have to sign we can sort that out, or leave it with me until Lucien gets home."

"Lovely."

"Audrey," Jean stood, "just in case your supervisor … well, she may bring up my past. I married Christopher Beazley, at seventeen." She turned away and wandered over to the window, "we were foolish, we had to get married. I have two sons from that marriage, Christopher died in the Solomons. My eldest is in the army and Jack, the younger one, well, he's in a reform school in Melbourne. He doesn't want to see me, to have anything to do with me."

"That's in the past, Jean," Audrey smiled, "we all change, we have all done things we may have regretted – I missed my opportunity to marry, to have a family because I listened to my father. He said Charlie would never amount to anything and sent him packing. He's the owner of a printworks now, with a wife and two children and a lovely house. He wanted us to run away together but …" she shrugged. "What you did, that was then, this is now … and these children will have a wonderful life with people who believe in them, of that I'm sure."

"I hope so," Jean lifted her shoulders, "come on, or that tea will be stewed."

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Wisely, Genevieve had just set everything ready to make tea. She had set the kettle ready to boil and put out milk and sugar and biscuits, plus glasses of milk for the children.

"Ah, there you are," she smiled. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, thank you, Genevieve," Jean indicated Audrey should sit, "Audrey is going to recommend we adopt Millie and Jacob as our own."

"I think they will grow with love and encouragement here, Mrs Blake," Audrey smiled, "the house is lovely, there is plenty of room for them to thrive."

"One less battle for Vivi," Genevieve nodded, "I'm sure she will be relieved."

"I shall set everything in progress for the adoption," she accepted a cup of tea, "it should be straightforward, but if you want to involve the family lawyer I won't stop you."

"It is always wise to have a backup plan, don't you think?" Genevieve smiled a wicked little smile.

"Oh yes, absolutely," they agreed.

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Lucien arrived home in time to freshen up before surgery.

"Hello," he poked his head into the kitchen, "in time for tea and biscuits?"

"Oh, Lucien," Jean jumped up, "I didn't hear you sneak in."

"Papa!" Peter ran over to him.

"Hey son, how are you today?" he swung him high, "and hello to you, too, Millie, how are you?" his voice softened as he talked to the little girl. She smiled her greeting as usual.

"Lucien, this is Audrey Brown, from Family Welfare," Jean indicated the guest.

"Miss Brown," he put Peter down and held out his hand. "How can we help you?"

"Oh, it's more how I can help you," she laughed, "I have been explaining to Jean that I can arrange the adoption of the children, by your good selves, everything seems in order here and I have no worries about you raising them."

"Really," he gasped and sat down, "you mean it?"

"Of course," she nodded, "I know you expected a bit of a battle, but I knew Jean at school, I know the kind of person she was, and I can see she is still a good and kind person. I don't foresee any trouble, but, as I said, if you want to involve the family lawyer go ahead. I believe she is your sister?"

"Vivi, yes," he ran his hands through his hair, "well, that's marvellous, isn't it Jean?"

"Yes, dear, it is," she smiled and passed him a cup of tea. He touched her hand and Audrey could see this was a couple who were deeply in love and would give that love to the children – all of them.

She left them to talk about the adoption, to read through the papers they would eventually have to sign and consider the court proceedings.

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"I suggest someone not of the family for one of the trustees," Vivi's colleague hummed, "just so that no one thinks the family are plotting to relieve the children of their inheritance."

"Could it be someone they know well, and trust, obviously?"

"Yes, have you someone in mind?"

"A Police Inspector. He went to school with my brother, is a close family friend and he wouldn't stoop to fraud or theft. His wife works with Lucien in the morgue, sometimes, otherwise she is in the labs at the hospital and awaiting the birth of her first child."

"That sounds ideal," he agreed. "Now, we have to work out the setting up of the trust and speak to Lucien and the Inspector …"

"Matthew, his name is Matthew Lawson."

"… Mr Lawson then make an appointment to see the bank manager."

"Right, I'll get on that and let you know the date, and that Matthew is agreeable."

"Perfect."

They spent the rest of the morning considering how they would set up the trust, how the children would benefit and how it would be drawn in the future. By lunchtime they thought they had it in good order and Viv invited him for lunch.

"Kind of you, Vivienne, but I have to get back. I have another trust to oversee. Why don't you go and see your brother and tell him what we have worked out, or better still go and tell Mr Lawson we'd like him to be one of the trustees."

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"… well, Matthew, I needed someone honest and trustworthy, and if that isn't you what are you doing in the police force," Vivi rocked back in her chair and grinned when Matthew asked why she'd picked him as a trustee.

"I guess you've got me there," he hummed, "do I have to do anything, sign something in blood?"

"No, nothing, really. All decisions on the fund and how the children access it will have to be made by you and Lucien, and Jean, Jean's probably the most sensible on that."

"This does assume that they adopt them, though, doesn't it?"

She shrugged; she saw that as a foregone conclusion. "Right, well I'll let you know when I need your signature – in ink – "she stood up, "thanks, Matthew."

"Anytime Vivi," he stood and smiled. "We're almost family."

"I've always thought so."

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With nothing else pressing, Vivi thought she'd go and buy some sandwiches and maybe a pastry and go and see Bill. She was sure he would like to know that progress had been made on the trust and see if any progress had been made on his continuing recovery.

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Bill gave a grin and limped over to her.

"Well," she grinned back, "you're looking very chipper today."

"Got the all clear to leave, to go back home," he laughed. "At last. Physio says I am ok to return to light duties, no running after crims but I can talk a light walk, use the stairs. How's it going with you?"

She pulled another chair up to his and offered him a sandwich. "Almost sorted the trust, got the trustees sorted, Lucien and Jean and Matthew."

"The Boss?"

"Not family, and if you can't trust a copper … he's known the family for a donkey's age … now all we have to do is have them adopted into the family."

"That would be perfect," he took a bite of the sandwich and swallowed. "How're you gonna do that?"

"I don't know, really. I suppose we'll have to wait for Family Welfare to get in touch." She sighed, "Lucien says it won't do Millie any good to be moved around, Jacob will never know any different than having Jean for a mother. He doesn't want them to be split up."

"How do they feel, about keeping them?"

"They would like to, but they're bound to bring up Jean's son, you know, Jack …"

"He made his own decision to be a fool, he needed a firmer hand, a father's hand – none of it was her fault."

"You know that, I know that, Matthew and Lucien know that, but Family Welfare? Don't they always blame the mother?"

They sat thinking for a while and eating the sandwiches and pastry that Vivi had brought with her.

"How are you getting home?" she suddenly asked.

He shrugged. "Need to get some groceries in, too."

"Want a lift?" she smiled.

"You're a life saver."

"No, that would be Lucien," she laughed, "come on, I take it you have been discharged?"

"Yep, I was just waiting for the doc to arrange my transport."

"I'll ring him, he's probably got caught up with the family."

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"You what!" Vivi shrieked with glee. She had just said 'hello' down the phone when Lucien, who never could keep a secret, yelled they were adopting the children. It had made it all the more real to tell her and he was now rather excited. "Lucien, that's wonderful!"

"So, what can I do for you?"

"I was just going to let you know I'd run Bill home, and see he gets the groceries he wants." She laughed.

"Damn, forgot all about him, in the excitement," he grunted. "Go ahead, let Sister know I give permission. Hey, Jean says bring him up for dinner tonight, we'll have a little celebration."

"You have the legalities to go through first."

"You're a lawyer …"

"Alright, I'm sure he'll be happy to eat Jean's food, again." She went to tell Bill the good news.

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"I've got all I need, Jean," Bill smiled as he left after another excellent meal. "Vivi took me to the grocers on the way over."

It had been a lively evening. Thomas gasped when he heard the news.

"And you choose to do all this while I'm in Melbourne at a conference?" he hugged his wife. "I expect you charmed Family Welfare, my darling," he laughed.

"Don't be silly, cheri," she kissed his cheek, "she was an old schoolfriend of Jean's."

"And now we have a houseful," he patted Peter's red curls, took Millie's hand and smiled down at her and settled down to hear all that had happened while he was listening to some professor drone on about triple vaccines for children. Not that he wasn't interested in triple vaccines for children, it was just this was far more interesting, far more exciting.

Peter climbed onto one knee, Millie was lifted onto the other and when Vivi and Bill arrived the story was told.

"Oh, but aren't we waiting for Matthew and Alice?" he looked round.

"They've been told, but Alice is tired, so they have asked to be excused. Matthew is a trustee of their fund." Vivi sat on the couch, next to Bill; Lucien raised his eyebrow at Jean.

"Don't say anything," she whispered. "Come and help me set the table."

"Do you need to do anything with the babies?"

"They're tucked up," she shook her head, "so don't you go waking them."

"Ma'am," he saluted.

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Vivi raised an eyebrow when she heard Millie address Jean as 'maman'.

"It's unlike mummy enough," Jean whispered, "and it's what Peter calls me, so she copies. I don't think she'll understand if we tell her I will be her mother once all the legalities are done. Genevieve talks to them in French, soon they'll be bilingual."

"How's your French, Jean?" Vivi whispered back.

"Coming along, I doubt I'll be fluent, but it's almost catching, like a cold."

"Get Lucien to teach you to swear."

"Vivi!" she hissed.

Vivi giggled, she didn't think she'd ever heard Jean swear, not even mildly.

"Anyway," Jean turned to the two children, "time you two were in bed," she held out her hands, "say your goodnights."

Peter, followed by Millie, went and said goodnight to his father, then his grandparents, who he addressed in French as did Millie.

"Come on," Jean chivvied them along, though Millie made a diversion to Bill to say goodnight to the 'nice man'.

"You sleep well, little miss," he smiled, thinking he could get used to it.

"She will, tonight, Sergeant," Li murmured, "she does when you've been here. Though I must admit her nightmares are less since the last time."

"Oh," he scratched his head.

"We think she recognises you as the man who saved her life." Lucien offered him a top up of his glass, which he refused.

"Thanks, doc, but no more, wine and a dodgy knee might not go well together."

"You can always lean on Vivi," he winked. Bill and Vivi both blushed and she gave her brother a dark glare.

Jean shot him a warning look and remarked that the height difference might make that a problem.

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"Thanks for this, Vivi," Bill eased himself out of the car.

"No worries, Bill. Are you working tomorrow?"

"No, I've got a day to sort myself out then office duty," he grimaced and lifted the bag of groceries out of the back. "Cuppa?" He thought this was the least he could offer, she had been good enough to drive him to the Blakes', take him shopping and now drive him home.

"Alright," she went to stand by him, "your neighbour's curtains are twitching."

"Yeah? Well, I've not been home for weeks and now I arrive with an attractive woman in a tasty little sports car …" he laughed.

"What puts those ideas into your head?" she nudged him.

"Years of taking statements from nosy neighbours that come to nothing."

"You should write them down."

He shrugged and opened the door. "Bit dusty," he mused.

"Nobody's been in for – what – six weeks? I bet the milk's off as well."

"Yeah, fridge'll need a clear out."

"Come on, I'll give you a hand, I'm not as domestically challenged as ma thinks."

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It didn't take long to clear out the fridge and set the fresh food in the right places and soon they were sitting in his living room with a cup of tea. Vivi looked around, definitely the domain of a single man. A car magazine on the coffee table, a few books on the shelves and a bottle of whisky on the sideboard. She supposed his mother must have died some time ago, any sign of a female hand had disappeared, though, apart from the light layer of dust, the house was clean and in good order.

"Well," she stood up, "thanks for the tea, Bill."

"It's the least I can do, you've been good to me."

"You've been good to me, Bill."

He let her precede him to the door, "do you want any help tomorrow?" She turned with her hand on the handle.

"Haven't you got things to do?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Only arrange an appointment with the bank manager to have the money released for the trust. Otherwise, I can be free."

"You don't have to …"

"You don't have to do my garden …"

"If you want."

"Alright, I'll come on over when I've finished with the bank." She tiptoed up and kissed his cheek, "sleep well."

"I will," he gulped, that was the second time she'd kissed him. He bent to kiss her cheek. "Goodnight, and thank you, again."

She waved as she headed down the drive; he closed the door and wondered.

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Bill roamed round his house; the familiarity calmed his rapidly beating heart. He would clean tomorrow, but now he was tired; he headed to bed.

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Vivi picked up her post and tossed it on the hall table, it didn't seem to be urgent, and it had been a long day. She hung her jacket on the hook by the door and went straight to her bedroom.

As she undressed, she took a long look at herself in the mirror. It wasn't something she did, not these days, but standing there in just her knickers she looked at the scars that men recoiled from. Well, only one man, she admitted to herself, which was when she stopped flirting, she couldn't take that kind of rejection from men who didn't know her. The scars extended from her earlobe down her arm to her hand. There was a line of burnt skin across her shoulder and just over the top of her breast making it impossible to wear a normal bra, the strap irritated the skin making it red and sore. At the end of her tether, one day during the Clement and Fletcher case, she had talked to Jean, the only other person who had seen the damage.

"I think a corset is what you need," she hummed, "oh, not the old-fashioned ones," she smiled when Vivi looked horrified, "but one of the new corselets or a longline without straps."

"Oh, do you think so," she pulled her robe over the sore shoulder.

"I'll come with you, if you want. You can try on the ones I choose; nobody needs to see."

"Jean, you are a saint, my saviour." Vivi hugged her, gently.

"You're still coming to terms with it," Jean stroked the tear from her cheek, "it will take time. And if you need a shoulder, mine is always available, God knows I used yours a lot."

So, Jean had taken her shopping, to the best corsetieres in Melbourne and helped her choose a variety of corselets and strapless longline bras that would go under all of her blouses and dresses. It was then that Jean started to make the blouses she wore, to think about how she could help Vivi retain her dignity, her pride.

Now she stood and observed her damaged body and wondered if she should encourage Bill or stop it before it really got started. He had his scars which she didn't care about, it was part of him, part of who he was, but would he think the same of her? 'We all have scars,' he had said.

She went to bed.