Alderton was forgotten about. Military police had come to take him back to Adelaide, with Hannam, where they would interrogate him until they found out what he was up to. Lucien had done a ballistics match on his revolver and the bullet pulled from Corporal Ennis and found it to be a match –if nothing else he would be charged with murder and probably sentenced to death. Lucien just said it was sad.

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"Don't let me sleep too long," Bill slipped into Vivi's bed, "maybe two, three hours." Instead of sleeping at home, since Hannam's visit, Bill had brought his things up to Vivi's house and stayed there. He may have been asleep while she was pottering about the house but he was there.

"Is that what you usually do?" Vivi sat on the edge of the bed, she would have to go to the office and get some paperwork done. She had a client accused of theft from one of the shops in town. He'd denied it and no one could find the goods anywhere in his house or car or anywhere he would have hidden them. He hadn't been the only one in the shop at the time the goods went missing but as he had a history of petty theft he had been arrested and charged. Somehow, not even Matthew's heart was in charging him, but it was Munro's case and he was sure the goods – a small radio, electric iron and kettle – had been sold on. The lad had asked how the heck he was supposed to get all that stuff out of the shop without being seen?

"Yeah," Bill yawned. She leant over and kissed him softly.

"Sweet dreams."

"Vivi," he touched her hand, "I don't think Ray Sands did that theft. He's a thieving little toe-rag, but not this time. He usually does his work at night."

"Wrong place, wrong time?"

"Uhuh." He closed his eyes.

She picked up her briefcase and left him to sleep.

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"Any messages, Elsie?" Vivi smiled, she had no problems leaving the young girl to look after things if she decided to work from home, or she had been attacked.

"Hello, Miss Blake, how are you?" Elsie hadn't seen her since Hannam's 'visit'. She had phoned in for messages but otherwise had said she needed some time to herself. In fact, although Vivi presented a self-assured, competent and fearless woman, there were some things that rattled her, home invasion was one. She supposed it was a knock-on from the letter incident, maybe she should ask Lucien if she had a form of shell-shock.

"I'm well, thank you, and you?"

"Great thanks, no messages today, but I made an appointment for Ray Sands to come in and talk to you about his defence. Do you really think he's innocent, he's quite known for it, y'know?"

"Yes, but I have my sources, Elsie," she smiled, "and they believe that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sands, apparently, usually does his work at night."

"That's true," she nodded.

"So, when is he due?"

"Nine-thirty, that ok?"

"Lovely." She picked up the paperwork and headed into her office.

"Tea?" Elsie called through.

"Please," Vivi called back.

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She sat and read the arrest paperwork and evidence sheet on Ray Sands. It wasn't promising – for prosecution. No stolen goods were found on Ray, or in his home, or garden or shed. His list of prior convictions were listed, but there was no evidence he had taken anything from the electrical store. Nobody could say, conclusively, that they had seen him take anything just that he had scarpered as soon as the shop assistant had called out that things were missing. To them, and it would appear to Inspector Munro, that proved his guilt. It wouldn't be the first time he had jumped the gun on a prosecution, and, sadly, she thought, it wouldn't be the last. She would see what Ray had to say for himself.

He appeared a few minutes late, for which he apologised. She looked at him, a small man, clean shaven, hair in need of a cut but not too long, his clothes were old, shabby but clean. His shoes needed a polish and he was without a tie.

"Take a seat, Mr Sands," she smiled, "let's see if I can help you."

"I'd appreciate that, Miss," he fiddled with the edge of his jacket, "see, I didn't take nothin' from that shop, Miss, 'onest."

"So, why do they say you did?"

"Er, well, I might have done it, in the past," he muttered but wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Tell me about the moment you were arrested."

"Oh, well, see, I was stopped by a constable I guess 'cos I was runnin' away from the store and somebody yelled that stuff had been taken."

"I see, so where did you put it?"

"I didn't take it," he insisted, "I wasn't the only one there, y'know, could'a been anyone, well maybe not Mrs Toohey, and what did I steal?"

Vivi looked at the paperwork, "a small radio, electric iron and kettle."

"Now, I grant you I could get a small radio, if it's one of them tranny things, in a pocket, but an iron and a kettle? Where'm I supposed to hid them?"

Vivi read down again, there was no mention of a shopping bag, which was her first thought. So, yes, where was he supposed to hide them?

"Nothing was found dropped outside the shop?"

He shrugged, "dunno, nobody said."

To Vivi this seemed like shoddy police work, she thought the goods had been taken long before anyone actually noticed. What was Munro playing at, come to think of it what was the constable up to? Most of the ones she knew wouldn't have arrested him on the spot; they may have stopped and searched him and then sent him on his way but not arrested him on such flimsy evidence. Lucien had said that Munro had a tendency to pick the most obvious criminal, interrogate them and charge them. She'd ask Matthew to look into this, hopefully get him de-arrested, if that was possible.

"Well, Mr Sands," she smiled, "I'll take your case, but let's hope it won't come to court, eh?"

"I an't got much to pay you with," he frowned.

"Pay me what you can, out of legally acquired funds, please. Do you have a job?"

"Yeah, out at the farms."

"Good, well you keep doing that and I'll see what's going on."

"Thanks, Miss."

Ray Sands left thinking this was the first time someone had treated him kindly, he'd save some of his wages to pay her with, keep them in the biscuit tin.

Vivi hummed and wondered about him, probably fell into petty crime as a teenager. She picked up the phone and called the police station.

"Matthew," she smiled, "Vivi; about Ray Sands."

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At his desk he rolled his eyes, he'd told Munro Sands was not the thief, this time, there was no evidence. Munro said it wasn't a big jump from him caught running out of the shop, and wouldn't be turned, now it seemed Sands had asked Vivi Blake to take his case – they stood no chance.

"So, he's got you on the case …"

"What case?" Vivi scoffed, "if it gets to court, Matthew, I'm going to tear that constable to pieces. This is the very worst in policing. What about witness statements, who else was there, he tells me Mrs Toohey was there, whoever she is."

"Father Moreton's housekeeper. Right," he sighed, "I'll look into it, Munro's off for a couple of days …"

Vivi thought that this was a bit sneaky, but Matthew worked with the man, he'd know the best way to handle it.

"Right!" Matthew stood up, "which one of you arrested Ray Sands at the leccy store?"

"Sir, that would be me, sir," the eager young officer stood up, thinking he was about the be praised, slapped on the back and told he did a good job.

"My office, now!"

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"Did a good job, did you?" he glared at the officer.

"Caught him, running out of the shop, sir."

"Stolen goods? Where were they?"

"Er, he didn't have them on him."

"You caught him outside the shop, arrested him with no evidence – is that good policing?"

"Erm, well it's Sands, sir, he's a habitual criminal."

"And what did he say?"

"Said it was nothing to do with him."

"Did you think he might be telling the truth, strange, I grant you, but he might be?" he leant on the desk, "did you speak to anyone else there, ask if anyone had seen anything? How about the store assistant?"

"It seemed obvious sir," the constable swallowed.

"Nothing is obvious in this job. Now go out and find all the others who were in the shop that day and speak to them."

"Um, I don't know who else was in the shop, sir."

"You didn't ask anyone else?"

He shook his head.

"Right, well you can start with Mrs Toohey, at the presbytery. She'll probably remember who else was there."

"Yes sir," he gulped.

"Go, get out of my sight. He's got Miss Blake representing him if this gets to court, you'll be torn to pieces."

The constable escaped as quickly as he could.

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"Well, constable," Mrs Toohey looked him up and down, "I can't really remember who was there. One or two," she looked up at the ceiling as if invoking the help of the almighty, "oh, yes, come to think of it, young Mark Stevens, and his intended, and I think I saw James Robertson – now he's always been a little monkey."

"Right, anyone else?"

"Now, really, constable," she huffed, "it was over a week ago, haven't you caught someone yet? I thought someone ran out of the shop at the time."

"Er, Ray Sands, ma'am," he sniffed, "we have to make sure we got it right."

"Ray Sands, eh? Well, constable, I can assure you Ray Sands had nothing to do with it. He's a thief, we all know that, but he had barely stepped into the shop when the call went up, and the small electrical items are kept on the rear wall. I wouldn't ordinarily defend him, he stole a pound of sausages out of my basket once, but this time, constable, you have got it wrong."

She watched him slope down the path and closed the door. She may not like Ray but she wouldn't see an innocent man sent to prison.

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The constable needed to find Mark Stevens and James Robertson, and speak to the assistant who had called out.

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"Well of course I didn't see who took the things," the assistant huffed, "otherwise I would have detained him until you got here."

"So, what happened?"

"I had just finished serving Mrs Toohey, a new kettle for the presbytery, and looked up to see the display model was missing, as was an iron and a small transistor radio. The things on the shop floor, constable, are for display only, their plugs aren't attached until we do sell them. The transistor doesn't need a plug, of course, so we take out the batteries; anyway, everybody looked around, there was a kerfuffle outside that I took no notice of except to notice it was that Sands fellow, and I had a look round the shop."

"Sands has been arrested for the theft."

"Why? He wasn't in the shop that day, isn't allowed in the shop and he knows it."

"Mrs Toohey said he had …" he looked at his notes, "'barely stepped into the shop,' when the incident occurred."

"If he had he'd only put a toe over the threshold, constable, Ray Sands did not take the items we are missing; and before you ask, no I didn't sell them."

"So who else did you serve that day, at that time?"

"Young Mark Stevens and his fiancée came in to inquire about renting a television when they get married, and the cost of a few items I think they were putting on their wedding gift list. James Robertson was in, said his mum wanted a new toaster and how much would it cost? I told him and he went, I think." He looked up and frowned, "come to think of it I didn't see him leave."

"Is there another way out?"

"Well, by the stand there, that curtain leads to the back of the shop and the alleyway."

"Who was standing there?"

"James. Ooh the little horror," realisation dawned, "it must have been him, in all the fuss he could easily have slipped out without being noticed. I'll tan his hide when I get hold of him."

"How old is he?" the constable frowned, he assumed he was dealing with adults.

"James? Er about twelve, I think, small lad, for his age."

"School?"

"Ballarat West."

"Thanks," he snapped his notebook shut and slipped it into his pocket.

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"See, lad," Matthew sat back in his seat as the constable told him all he had found out, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No sir."

"You made an assumption based on prejudice, lad, that Ray Sands is always up to no good. I'm sure the academy taught you to gather the evidence before jumping to conclusions."

"But, sir, Sands …"

"Was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This has to be wiped from his record and we now have to go and speak to a twelve-year-old." Matthew grabbed his hat and motioned the constable to follow him.

"Sir, can we talk to a kid?"

"Not without a parent present, so first we go to see his mother."

"Do you know where she lives, boss?"

"As it happens, I do, I've arrested her husband often enough, usually drunk and disorderly."

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Mrs Robertson was just settling down to a well-earned cup of tea. She had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, working out her anger at her husband losing his job – yet again! He'd gone out after a huge row, likely as not to the Pig and Whistle, to drown his sorrows in sly grog.

"Hello Martha," Matthew raised his cap, "may we come in?"

"Oh, Mr Lawson," she stepped aside, "heard the kettle, did ya?"

"Ah, new is it?"

"Yeah, Jimmy bought it, with his Saturday wages," she grinned, then, seeing the look on his face, her shoulders slumped. "Nicked it, didn't he?"

"There is a possibility," he agreed, "when did he get it?"

"Saturday, after work. He works at the cobblers Saturday mornings. Got me a new iron too …" she sighed. "What happened?"

"Seems he was in the Electrical shop and was tempted, kettle, iron and transistor radio."

"I thought it was too good to be true, he's got the radio in his room."

"We need to speak to him, but we need you to be present, Martha."

"Jeez, just like his damn father. Robbie's just lost his job, again, probably in the pub."

"Right."

"Come on then, you drivin'?"

"Yeah, Ballarat West?"

She nodded.

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Ballarat West was just as he remembered it, which he'd rather not. Pupils were milling around during their lunchbreak, groups and couples, teachers watching over them, including Donald McAvoy. Matthew would rather speak to the Head than him.

"There he is, Inspector," Mrs Robertson pointed. "Hey! Jimmy Robertson, you come here right this minute!" she yelled over the general hubbub of children's chatter.

Jimmy stopped what he was doing, stared and ran.

"Constable," Matthew grunted, "get a move on."

"Boss," the constable charged off making a beeline for Jimmy as the others parted waves like the Red Sea for Moses.

Jimmy kept looking back, which caused him to trip and falter as the constable bore down on him and threw himself at him, catching him in a rugby tackle and rolling over so the boy didn't smash his face into the ground.

"Impressive," Mrs Robertson hummed, "new, is he?"

"Brand new, shiny junior constable. Shame his brain isn't as quick as his feet."

"Really?"

"Yeah, got a lot to learn about who to arrest and who to caution."

"He'll learn if you've a mind to teach him. You may arrest Robbie all too often, Inspector, but you're fair, so if you've a lesson to teach Jimmy, don't let me stop you."

"Shall we?" he motioned her forward.

"Don't mind if I do."

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Mrs Robertson reached down and hauled her son up by his ear.

"OW! Gerroff!" he yelled, "mum!"

"What've you been doing you good for nothing little bludger?" she growled. "Mr Lawson, here, tells me you've been thievin' …"

"Shall we do this down at the station, Mrs Robertson?" Matthew shushed her. "A little more private, don't you think?"

"Whatever you say," she huffed and dragged Jimmy along, still by his ear, until they got to the car where she practically threw him into the back and got in next to him.

By the time they had got to the station, Jimmy had confessed to taking the electrical goods just because he saw an opportunity.

"Lots of the other boys do it, mum," he dodged another clip round the ear, "they all brag about it."

"You know it's wrong, you don't have to do the same thing. Don't I have enough trouble with yer dad?"

"But you wanted a new kettle," he moaned.

"Not a nicked one, you drongo!" she managed to clip him this time.

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Jimmy was told he would now have a record sheet at the station. His mother suggested he stay overnight, but Matthew didn't think it would be necessary. He was going to have to pay for the goods, apologise to the store and apologise to Ray Sands for getting him into trouble.

"I didn't get no one into trouble," Jimmy gasped.

"Because you took things from the shop, Mr Sands was arrested running away. He was scared because he thought everybody would suspect him, and they did. So you will apologise to Mr Sands for that." Matthew folded his arms and sat back.

Jimmy scowled, his mother just huffed and sat straight-backed with her handbag on her knee.

"I do not want to see you in here, again, Jimmy, not after doing wrong. This is your one and only chance and as for your classmates, who you say are always taking things that don't belong to them, I shall be speaking to the headmaster and perhaps arranging a visit to the cells."

Jimmy blanched.

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Vivi decided to give Bill his wake-up call. Three hours he had said, and it had been just over so she dialled her number.

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"Urgh," he grunted down the line.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head," she laughed softly.

"Hey," she heard the smile in his voice, "how's it going?"

"Good, I've asked Matthew to look into Ray Sands' case. Shouldn't go to court, I said I'd tear his constable to pieces."

"And you would, must've been one of the ones Munro brought in," he agreed, "can I buy you lunch?"

"How could I refuse?" she laughed, "meet me at the café, half an hour?"

"Ok."

"Miss Blake," Elsie poked her nose into the office, "I've Inspector Lawson on the line."

"Put him through, Elsie, then you can go for your lunch, if you wish."

"Thanks Miss."

"Matthew," she smiled, "how's it going?"

"You won't have to tear the constable to pieces, Vivi," he grumbled, "I've already done that. Anyway, it was a boy from Ballarat West, thought he'd take a chance and all his mates are at it, apparently, and braggin' about it. He's gonna pay for the goods from his Saturday wages, and apologise to Sands. I'll arrange that."

"Right, sounds good. But can you let Sands know it's about time he stopped his petty thieving. What are you going to do with the boy, apart from him paying up and apologising?"

"He's got a record, gotta do it, Vivi, he stole. Hopefully that, and the clips over the ear his mother gave him will have him at least think twice before he does it again. I hate having kids before me, Vivi, 'specially now I've got one of my own."

"And how is little Isobel?"

"Grand, she's putting on weight, meeting all her marks, Lucien says."

"I doubt Alice would let her do anything else," Vivi laughed.

"You could be right, there." He agreed.

They signed off after a few pleasantries about the children and the forthcoming baptisms. All the children, including Isobel, would be baptised at the same service and then there would be a party at Jean and Lucien's home. The weather should be good enough for guests to spill out into the garden and give the children room to play. Jean, Genevieve and Véro would be cooking up a storm, according to Lucien, while he, Thomas and Pierre would be tasked with moving furniture, sorting out drinks, plates, cups, glasses and cutlery.

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Bill had found a table by the window so he could see Vivi approaching. This was the first time they had been seen out together, having lunch. They would speak in the street, perhaps pass the time of day, but apart from taking her to dinner after Evie's case and maybe a couple of other times, they hadn't been seen out together during the day.

He stood up as she walked in and was most surprised when she kissed his cheek in greeting.

"Hello," he grinned, "what's all this, then?"

"Just pleased to see you, during the day," she smiled.

They ordered a pot of tea and sandwiches and she told him how the Sands case had panned out.

"See, I knew he hadn't done it, even the Boss didn't want to charge him, but it was Munro's case."

"How long as he been thieving?"

"Since he was a lad, I reckon. Always little things, not really worth sending him to court for, a night in the cells when he got older, magistrate's at the most and a fine. He'd never survive prison. I feel sorry for the man," he sighed, Bill was not given to sentiment over the criminal fraternity, "he's not had a good life. Nobody knows who his father was, bullied at school, not particularly bright …"

"I get the picture. He said he's working at the farms."

"Yeah, goes from one to the other, depending on what needs doing. You going to charge him, being as he's not going to court?"

"I should charge him for my time, an hour."

"You didn't charge me."

"Oh I get my payment in far more interesting ways," she smiled, cheekily.

He blushed.

She laughed, softly.

"What're we going to do, Vivi … damn!" he hissed.

"What?"

"Munro, headin' this way."

"It's a public place, or has he said something?"

"It is, and he hasn't, but he's bound to think we're plotting something, he's as bad as Alderton for seeing things that aren't there."

"Hobart," Munro entered and nodded, "Miss Blake."

"Inspector," she smiled. Bill just nodded.

"You were saying, Bill?" she pulled him back to his half-finished question.

"Maybe not here," he frowned.

They finished their lunch in silence then left. Munro watched them go, wondering what a woman like Vivienne Blake saw in a grumpy copper like Bill Hobart.

"Something on your mind, Bill?" she asked as they headed back to her office.

"Is Elsie in?"

"Out to lunch, private consultation, Senior Sergeant?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

A 'private consultation' usually meant a quick kiss and cuddle in the couch in the office, nothing more even though she did have a 'do not disturb' sign if she was in conference.

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She hung the sign on the door and closed it.

"Hey," she touched his face and tiptoed up to kiss him. "you asked what we are going to do, Bill; is there something wrong?"

"No, everything is good, very good …"

"But?"

He stepped away, "I love you, Vivi, am in love with you. I never thought that when I offered to do your garden that this would happen …"

"Neither did I," she whispered.

"… Vivi, Vivienne," he took a deep breath which not only prepared him, it prepared her, warned her, what he was going to say, to ask. "Vivienne Blake, will you marry me?"

"Oh Bill," she reached over and cupped his cheek, "of course I'll marry you."

"You will," he gasped, "you will!"

"I just wondered whether you would want me, I mean, this," she waved her hand down her body, even now she worried he would find it hard to look at, to touch.

He pulled her close and into a long kiss. "Always."

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With her lipstick wiped off Bill's face and hers repaired, Bill left the office saying he had things to do, and he would see her later.

"Alright, I've got some court papers to go through and Sands' invoice to prepare. Should be home on time."

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Bill passed Elsie on his way out, he smiled a greeting and left to go to his own house. He wondered, on the way, if they would move into his house or he would move into hers; his was bigger but he knew Vivi wasn't particularly interested in becoming a mother and that was ok with him, there were plenty of children in the family he was marrying into to keep them occupied – and they could give them back at the end of the day.

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"I'm back, Miss Blake," she poked her nose into the office, "did you have lunch?"

"Yes, thanks, Elsie."

"Just seen Sergeant Hobart, he looks happy."

"Does he?"

"You ought to make an honest man of him, Miss Blake," she smiled, "everybody can see he's nuts about you."

Vivi raised one eyebrow and looked at her.

"Sorry, not my place," Elsie went back into the outer office.

Vivi hoped that it was only their close friends and family that could see what Elsie had just pointed out, for the whole of Ballarat to notice was embarrassing. Not that she was embarrassed to be seen with Bill, on the contrary, she was just aware that some thought she was too damaged to be desirable. Ah well, there was nothing they could do about it, now.

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Bill went to his own home. If he was to stay with Vivi, for the next few days at least, he needed some more clothes and to wash the shirt he had worn the previous shift. He was used to taking care of himself, his own laundry and cooking, but now he and Vivi would have to negotiate all those little things that living together, as husband and wife, meant. She'd tossed his shirts in with her washing while he slept, he'd ironed them, but she'd ironed her own blouses, the ones Jean made for her in the delicate fine cottons.

He packed some shirts and necessary items and then thought some more. He ought to get Vivi a ring, he supposed. He'd only bought an engagement ring once before but that hadn't worked out and he sold it back to the jewellers.

When his mother died Evie and May had gone through her things and chosen what they wanted to remember her by, and then left some of her jewellery with him. He remembered May teasing him and saying, "you never know, Bill , you never know."

And now …

He opened the box that sat in a drawer in the dresser and looked at the bits and pieces. They hadn't been wealthy, but his father had been generous to his mother and bought her some nice pieces, including the engagement ring. It was an opal, with a diamond each side. He didn't know if it would fit, he didn't know if she would like it; she didn't wear much jewellery, a small drop pendant, sometimes a bracelet, and a watch. Never earrings, not now, she kept her ear lobes covered to everyone but him. The ring needed cleaning, his mum used to use warm soapy water, she didn't trust the jeweller – he did - but if it needed adjusting to fit, if she liked it, it could be properly cleaned then.

He set it in its box and slipped it onto his pocket, picked up his overnight bag and headed out to Vivi's house.

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Vivi locked up the office and took the invoice to the post office. She had billed Ray Sands for an hour's work to be paid at his earliest convenience. She had no idea when that would be but thought she could get Bill to gently remind him. She had two cases coming up in Melbourne in the next two months – her reputation had followed her so she wasn't reliant on the work she got in Ballarat. She was quite content to work this way, now, having a family and now a fiancé, she had more in her life than she had had for years – she decided she was happy. She wondered what her father and brother would say when they heard she was finally getting married. Her mother would be happy, she hoped, Jean would be over the moon and would have to be stopped from organising the wedding, her dress, food … she laughed softly to herself as she got into the car and drove off.

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"Only me!" she called out, dropped her keys on the table and put her briefcase down.

"Tea?" came the answer.

"Please," she took off her jacket and kicked off her shoes. She headed to the kitchen and went up behind him, wrapping her arms round him and humming into his back.

He carried on making tea, smiling as her fingers slipped between the buttons of his shirt. Suddenly he put his hand over hers. "And just what is your game, madam?" he teased.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she hummed, slipping her fingers down his belly.

He turned off the kettle, "I don't think it's tea you're after, Miss Blake," he murmured, turning and wrapping his arms round her.

She hummed into his mouth, he ruched her skirt up and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs round him. His hands under her bottom he carried her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed, not once stopping the kiss. Her hands made short work of his buttons as he practically ripped her knickers off. In seconds he was plunging into her and she met him at every stroke until she screamed his name and climaxed.

He cursed and spilled into her, briefly noting he wasn't wearing protection and as far as he knew her diaphragm was in its case in the bathroom. He fell to her side, she giggled.

"Huh," he scoffed.

"I think if you welcome me home like that I'm going to enjoy being married to you," she smiled and snuggled close.

"I won't bother with the kettle, in future, then," he kissed the top of her head.

"Maybe when we're old and grey." They lay there for a while, just content in each other's company until she rolled off the bed and went to clean herself up and slip her robe on.

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"I, er, I bought some of my clothes over, y'know," he ducked.

"Good," she smiled, "I suppose we need to work out where we're going to live, once we're man and wife."

"Yeah, seems silly to have two houses, unless you …" he bit his lip.

"Want a break? Bill, I love it when you're here, I hate it when you stay at yours, like when you're on nights, well at least until this last set." She sat back and pushed her plate away, "I always thought I could cope with anything, I was independent, lived alone, saw who I wanted to see, then …" she sighed, "then someone tried to hurt me, they did hurt me. I didn't realise how much it scared me until this time. I'm used to people disagreeing with me, it comes with the job, but until the letter … I've never been threatened like that." She stood up and ran her hands through her hair, "I don't want to be protected, I …"

"… just want someone to be there, to have your back … to love you." He finished for her.

"Bill," she insinuated herself onto his knee, "I love you. I don't think I've ever been in love before, not like this. I'm ready to commit to someone, and that someone is you."

"Well, Vivi," he slipped his arm round her waist, "I'm glad you've chosen me, to commit to, I've got your back, but I won't smother you, you're a strong woman, maybe a couple of nicks in the armour – haven't we all? – I love that about you. So, I thought, this afternoon, that maybe you should have something, something that means a lot to me." He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the ring box. "This belonged to my mother, dad gave it to her the day he proposed; I don't know if you like it, I can get you something new, but …" he opened the box, "well, she wore it."

"You kept it?" she took it out and turned it round in her fingers.

"May has her own, Evie was too young to appreciate it and … well …"

"It's lovely, such a different style."

"Here," he slipped it on her finger, "if it needs altering …"

"It is a bit loose …" she stretched her hand out in front of her and the stones slipped round, "maybe a little tighter."

"Right, well, perhaps we should go to the jeweller, he can give it a proper clean, as well."

"Tomorrow," she put the ring back in the box.

"Yeah."

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Rumour didn't take long to get around. Someone had seen Senior Sergeant Bill Hobart and Miss Vivienne Blake go into the jeweller's shop, together, that someone told someone else, who told someone else and so on and so forth until it reached Jean's ears.

"Really?" she hummed, turning green beans over in the market, "well, I'm sure they had a good reason. A pound of these please."

"Ma'am," the stallholder weighed out the vegetables, "anything else?"

"Carrots, and … hm … yes, a cauliflower, please."

"Pound?" he pointed to the carrots, she nodded.

The gossips were watching and waiting for her to give them some news, but as she didn't have any news she just bought her produce and stowed it on the tray under the pram and strolled to the next stall.

She finished her shopping and walked home. If Vivi had anything to tell them likely as not it would be at dinner tonight, but she couldn't deny she was intrigued. However, she had the baptisms to attend to, and the surgery and the children.

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"Jean?" Genevieve noticed her thoughtful expression as she manoeuvred the pram into the house, "something wrong?"

"No, just the gossips, is all. Apparently Vivi's on the receiving end, now. She and Bill were seen going into the jeweller's together."

"Really?" Genevieve looked instantly interested.

"I'm sure they had a very good reason, Genevieve, you're worse than the tittle-tattles. If there is anything we need to know that is for Vivi to tell us, not for us to listen to gossip." She huffed and lifted Jacob out of the pram and set him to wobble down the hall, Jennifer followed, "have Millie and Peter behaved?"

"Of course, they always do," her mother-in-law laughed. "Pierre has had them on the swing and Véro has been helping me in the garden."

"Right, well, I'd better get on with lunch, then."

"Would you like some help?"

"Always," Jean smiled. "Does it worry you, Vivi and Bill?"

"Not at all, he is a good and kind man, and he loves her, anyone can see that. She has always caused me more worry than Lucien, even when he was in that dreadful camp, it was her lifestyle, living alone in Melbourne, perhaps being a little too free with her favours …" Genevieve frowned, "but, now, maybe she will settle."

Jean hummed, she'd never thought of Vivi settling down but perhaps Genevieve was right.

"I'm glad she came back to Ballarat," Jean set the plates out, "I know she had a good life in Melbourne, but it's nice having her around, isn't it?"

"It is," Genevieve agreed.

No more was said about Vivi and Bill, certainly not to Lucien who would interrogate them later if he knew.

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"Do you want to tell them, tonight?" Bill fastened his belt.

"Given the looks we were getting, today, rumour has probably spread," she nodded, "and Jean would have been in the market today, I bet she heard whisperings."

"Sometimes I wish people would keep their noses out of other peoples' business," he huffed.

"But sometimes you need them to be noticing these things. I mean, if I suddenly went missing …"

"The first person they'd look at would be me," he smiled, "yeah, sometimes it's good, but gossip, I mean, Jean didn't half get it before she married Lucien …"

"Pure jealousy," she laughed.

"Yeah. You ready?"

"Aha," she picked up the car keys and let him open the door for her.

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"Only us!" Vivi called through the house from the door.

"Hey!" Li grinned, "dinner's nearly ready."

"Smells good," Bill put his hand in the small of Vivi's back. They had decided they would say something when the conversation took the right turn rather than announce it. Bill had suggested he speak to her father; she gave him a strange look, then noticed the twinkle in his eye and laughed.

"It's nothing special," Jean called.

"That's what you always say," Vivi went into the kitchen, "mmm, slow lamb?"

Jean nodded, she'd had the leg of lamb slowly roasting all afternoon, with herbs and seasoning. She threw the vegetables in three-quarters of the way through the cooking and left it to cook itself. The only extra dishes she'd had to do was the cauliflower cheese and the roast potatoes. Genevieve had done the dessert, an apple flan, showing Li how to make the base and lie the apple slices neatly over the top.

"Ma teaching Li to cook?"

"Desserts, Li's quite good at the savoury things." Jean smiled, "Véro's on babysitting duty."

"And loving it, I bet," Vivi laughed.

"Oh yes, the children love her."

"And you, Jean," Vivi touched her elbow, "are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jean gave her a quizzical look.

"You do so much and I don't feel I contribute anything …"

"You are busy enough, being a lawyer," Jean smiled, "I'm just glad you are here. It's just nice to know I can talk to you, you have had your own battles, recently, Vivi, take time to deal with those, first."

"It's true, Hannam's visit rattled me," she agreed, "but I have my knight in shining armour," she smiled.

Jean looked at her.

"You disapprove?"

"No, of course not," she shook her head, "once upon a time, a very long time ago, I might have, just – don't do anything rash, Vivi."

"We take precautions," Vivi perched on the edge of the table, "I don't see myself as a mother, and really, Jean I can always borrow one …" she laughed.

"You can borrow two, if you like," Jean understood, "motherhood isn't for everybody, and anyway, you're not married."

"True," she hummed and wandered into the living room in search of a pre-dinner whisky.

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Conversation over dinner spanned numerous subjects as it always did. The lack of investigation in the theft from the electrical shop, James Robertson possibly following his father, and the lackadaisical investigations under Munro's leadership.

"Matthew has to keep picking up the pieces," Lucien sighed, "I wonder if he has another agenda."

"Well, it could be reds under the beds," Bill shrugged, "carry one from where Alderton left off, or he just likes snooping on the locals."

Thomas looked at him, "what on earth do you mean?"

Vivi looked at Bill, she knew exactly what he meant, there had been no need for Munro to enter the café while they were having lunch, it was only because he saw them at the table.

"Only that you can't have a quiet lunch with a friend without him turning up and trying to listen in." He grumbled.

Vivi smiled and touched his hand. "Maybe he did us a favour."

"What are you on about?" Lucien looked from one to the other.

"I wanted to have a conversation, and not have to wait until we were out of sight."

"Still, my office was much nicer …" she looked around the table, "Bill asked me to marry him, why I don't know …"

Bill rolled his eyes, "Jeez, Vivi, you can be so clever but there are times when you can be so dense. I told you why, but I'll say it for all here to hear, I love you, Vivienne Blake …"

She smiled at him, the kind of besotted smile her brother gave Jean when they were alone, and squeezed his hand.

"You did say yes, didn't you?" Li's eyes opened wide in anticipation.

"Of course I did," Vivi laughed.

"Hooray!" Li got up and danced around the room.

"This is marvellous!" Thomas slapped the table, "Lucien, get a that bottle of champagne Jean sneaked into the fridge, we must celebrate." He turned to Bill, "welcome to the family, Bill, we are delighted to have you."

"Thanks, Dr Thomas," Bill recovered, he wasn't usually so open even with family.

Genevieve smiled so hard her cheeks ached, she told Véro and Pierre what was happening and they added their congratulations to the couple.

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Vivi woke up curled against Bill's side. They had celebrated quite late the previous night but she still had to get into the office and look over the cases she had. She would have to go to Melbourne the following week to attend court; Elsie would have to book her into a hotel for the duration and she wasn't looking forward to it.

There was no point in Bill accompanying her, she wouldn't get to see him during the day, they would be lucky to have dinner together.

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Inspector Munro was waiting for her when she got to her office.