Jean spent the first few days seeing how the house worked, or didn't. Lucien had agreed that the cot could go into her room and that she would tend to May in the night.

"Though she does sleep through, now."

"As she should, at this age. Have you started weaning her?"

"Actually, no. I had hoped the housekeeper would have been able to. I know she's ready for it, but Mrs Hastings was less than enamoured of children."

"Right, well, I'll make up some purees for her, then," Jean was looking into the fridge and cupboards as they talked. "First, we need some fresh veggies, do you have accounts anywhere?"

"Well …" he ran his hand over his head.

"Mrs Hastings?"

He nodded.

"Alright, my job?"

"Oh Jean, would you? You will know where's best."

"Davidson's for veggies, Col Vernon for meat. I'll see if Leo will deliver the milk, he does bread to."

"I wonder what dad did, when he was alive."

"Someone will know, in town. Mr Davidson will deliver, so will Mr Vernon …"

"I noticed Mrs Hastings bought every day, at least once we got here."

"Well, I'll have to do that, for this weekend."

"It's a lot to carry, isn't it?" He hummed. "Can you drive?"

"Of course," she laughed "I learnt on the tractor, but yes, I can drive a car."

He handed her the keys, "I'll look after the children …"

"How about I take two with me, to carry things, and get to know the town. They can all come one day, but two …"

"The boys?"

"How about Will and Li. I'll introduce them to people they should know, if we see them. The market's on so I can get a lot there."

"You'll need cash," he dug in his pockets and pulled out his wallet. "This enough?"

He handed her some notes and watched her count it.

"Should be plenty."

He watched her drive off and wondered if he should look at getting a car for her, big enough to take the children.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The town was busy. Li and Will looked around at people moving here and there.

"Don't forget where I've parked the car," she smiled, "if we get separated you head there and wait."

"Where will we go, first, Jean?" Li slipped her hand into hers and she felt Will take hold of the basket handle.

"The butchers, I'll set up the account and get something for tonight and tomorrows lunch, any preferences?"

The two children looked at each other, they'd never really had the choice before.

"We all like chicken," Li hummed, "it was easy to get and easy to cook, when daddy was bringing us home."

"How about pork?"

Will looked up and thought, he hummed and then turned to Jean.

"Is that the one with the crackling on?"

"It is, if you cook it right," she laughed. "You remember?"

"Vaguely," he admitted.

"Shall we have pork, then?"

"Ok," Li nodded.

Will licked his lips at a memory.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Good morning, Mr Vernon," Jean stepped into the shop.

"Miss Randall, how are you my dear?"

"Very well, thank you. This is Li Blake, Dr Lucien Blake's daughter, and his ward, Will, one of them, anyway," she smiled.

"I had heard he had come home, and with children."

"A long story, Mr Vernon, there are four more at home, I thought I'd bring these two to help shop."

"Mrs Hastings got you running errands for her?" he frowned.

"No, I'm Dr Blake's housekeeper now, and nanny to the children," she shook her head and smiled. "I should like some meat for today, and if possible a joint of pork for Sunday lunch."

"Of course …"

"Dr Blake has also asked me to set up accounts for him, at the right shops. I thought here?" she tipped her head.

"Delighted to have his business, Miss Randall," he reached for his order book. "Shall I put these on the account?"

"If you've a mind to, that would be lovely. Settle at the end of each month?"

"Perfect."

She chose the piece of pork that would feed all of them, some mince for a cottage pie – she thought she ought to plan weekly menus with so many mouths to feed – and ordered meat for the following week to be delivered on Monday.

"Now," Mr Vernon held the parcels, "which of you two is going to carry this for Miss Randall, eh?"

"I will," Will stepped forward, "oof! Thank you, sir."

"You are most welcome, young man." He laughed.

"Thank you, Mr Vernon, I look forward to seeing Jimmy on Monday."

He waved and turned to his next customer.

"Who's Jimmy, Jean?" Li whispered.

"The boy who delivers the orders."

"Oh, that's a job?"

"It is."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jean went through the same at Mr Davidson's shop. She bought what they would need for the weekend, placed an order for the week, and set up the account.

"Let's take these to the car, then we can wander round the market and see what else we can find, eh?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Will nodded, the meat was heavy.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Fruit," she replied to Li's question as to what they should be looking for. "It's easy to puree down for May, so, apples, bananas, oranges, strawberries …"

"How do you puree?"

"Cook it down so it's soft, and then mash it, that's all a puree is."

"Is that 'cos she's not got any teeth, yet?" Will hummed.

"Partly, and partly to get her used to new tastes, and so she won't choke on big …"

"Jean Randall?!"

She turned round suddenly.

"Blimy, it is you," the voice belonged to a man in police uniform, "god it's good to see a familiar face."

"Matthew Lawson," she laughed, "how lovely to see you." She let him kiss her cheek.

"And who have we here?" He looked from one child to the other.

"This is Li Blake, Dr Blake's daughter, and one of his wards, Will. Children, this is Matthew Lawson, a good friend."

"Not Lucien Blake?" he shook Will's hand and smiled at Li.

"The very same," she confirmed.

"We were at school together."

"He said, sir, when we were coming here, that he had a good friend that wanted to be a policeman."

"That'd be me," Matthew grinned. "I must pop up and see him, sometime."

"You'd be very welcome, I'm sure," Jean agreed. "I'll tell him we've seen you and get him to ring you, at the station?"

"Yeah, I'm on duty today, so he should catch me, or he can leave a message and I'll ring him back. Heck, it really is good to see you, Jean." He wondered what had happened to her romance with Christopher Beazley but now was not the time to ask, not in front of the children, and anyway, why did she have Lucien's children with her? One was a ward, she said.

"And you, Matthew." They watched him wander off to keep the town safe.

"He seems nice," Li hummed as they turned their attention to the fruit stall.

"He is."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Lawson?" Lucien raised his eyebrows, "well, I will certainly call him."

"Doctor," Jean took a deep breath, "he was my friend too, we used to let his mother have some of the veggies we grew, to help her out."

"'Kind of you, Jean," he grinned, "Now, I know it's an imposition …"

She looked at him, eyebrows raised, this was his house, his rules.

"… but, how would you feel if I invited him to lunch, tomorrow?"

"If he's off duty, why not? One extra mouth won't be a problem, the joint is big enough."

He gave her a questioning look.

"Pork, with crackling, Will …" she left the idea hanging.

"Oh, lovely. Chicken was easiest, on the journey."

"So Will and Li said."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Matthew says thanks, and yes," he came out of the study. "He says you're a good cook …"

"Kind of him," Jean stirred the fruit she was cooking for May.

"… says he ate at your farm, sometimes, before …" he waved his hand.

"He did," she moved the pan. "Vera has gone to live in Melbourne, she has a little girl, now. His mum, well, she wasn't well. I sent a message through the army to tell him when she passed. He didn't make it for the funeral … so I left flowers, in his name."

"That is extraordinarily kind of you, Jean," he looked sad. "I remember his mother, she was amazing, the way she fed those two kids on nothing. What happened to his father?"

"Albert Lawson was killed in a knife fight. He is no loss."

Jean obviously had her standards, he thought. No matter, she wasn't wrong.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There were no complaints about the meal Jean set in front of them. The plates were scraped clean and May seemed to like her first taste of solid food – some mashed potato Jean had saved when she made the cottage pie, with mashed carrots, and a little pureed apple and mashed banana, washed down with her usual milk.

"Jean?" Curtis lifted his plate and took it to the sink, "would you mind if we washed the pots?"

"No, why would I mind?"

"Mrs Hastings didn't let us anywhere near the kitchen," Lottle followed him, "so we stopped. We always helped the doc …"

"They are perfectly responsible, Jean," Lucien smiled, "Mrs Hastings said it was her job …"

"… it's mine too, but … why should I refuse an offer of help?"

"Indeed," he agreed, "and I want them to help; there's eight of us in the house, Jean, it is a lot of work."

"We'll get into a routine," she smiled and wiped May's face.

"There'll be more work when the surgery is back up and running," he hummed, "is there anything that would make your life easier?"

She gave him a strange look. She'd never heard of an employer wanting to make his worker's life easy.

"In what way?"

"Well, Mrs Hastings grumbled about the amount of laundry she how had to do …"

Jean thought Mrs Hastings grumbled about a lot of things.

"That's my worry, Dr Blake, be assured I have my ways … and there's a good laundry that will do a wash and iron, collect and deliver."

"Marvellous."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Matthew stood at the front door and smiled. The begonia looked tidy, the cushion in the chair clean and plumped up, it seemed Jean was already making her mark. He knocked and waited.

"Hello, Matthew," Jean smiled, "come on in."

"Something smells good," he proffered a bunch of flowers, "from the garden."

"They're lovely, thank you. Come and meet the rest of the family."

"How many are there, you said yesterday that Will was one of his wards?"

"He is, and here are the rest. Curtis, Lottie, Suyin and Baby May is in the garden in the pram." Each stepped forward as they were introduced, Lottie encouraged Suyin. "This is Mr Lawson, Dr Blake's friend from school."

"Will said he'd met you, at the market, sir," Curtis was less reticent now, he trusted Lucien and Jean not to bring dangerous people to them.

"He did." Matthew smiled.

"Lawson! Do I hear your dulcets …?" Lucien boomed from the study.

"Blake, you old devil," Matthew laughed, "how are you?"

"Grand, old friend," Lucien took his friend by the upper arms, "drink?"

"Please, and you can tell me how you came to have such a large family."

"Well, it happened like this …" they sat in the living room with the children around them, chipping in where he missed a detail. Jean carried May in and passed her to Lottie.

"Lunch won't be long," she smiled.

Lucien raised his glass and smiled.

"So, how did you find Jean?"

"She found me. I placed an ad in the newsagent's window and she was up here before the ink dried."

"What happened to Christopher, her fiancé?"

"Found someone else and married them, that's all I know. I suppose she'll tell me more if I need to know it."

"Idiot," Matthew huffed.

"Well, I know it's selfish of me, but I'm rather glad he did, otherwise I wouldn't have someone who can do everything I need here and that the children like."

"Well, I do know she's a good cook."

"Mm," Blake nodded, "and she bakes, which endears her to Will."

"So, what are your plans, now you're back?"

"Start up the practice again, see if they'll take me at the hospital … as a surgeon, get the children into schools and open up the studio."

"The studio?"

"Yeah," Lucien heaved a sigh, "there'll be some of maman's painting in there, and we could use the space."

Jean called them through for lunch, stopping any more morose thoughts. May would have to sit on her lap while she fed her and herself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Conversation revolved around their childhoods, tales that amused the children, what Jean would like to do with the garden, how Matthew was managing on his own.

"You'll always be welcome here, old friend," Lucien looked over at Jean in case he'd overstepped the mark and made even more work for her, she just smiled her agreement and took May's hands out of her vegetables.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As the days merged into weeks they began to find their place in the house and in the town.

It soon became public knowledge that Dr Blake had opened up his father's surgery and old patients came to see if he was any good. Miss Agnes and Miss Nell Clasby were soon on his doorstep to see how the boy they had known had become the man his father never knew. They came to register, stayed for an hour or so fortified by Jean's tea and biscuits and were introduced to the children. Other patients were not introduced but they saw a child or two around the place, apparently not getting into any trouble. Many knew Jean from the greengrocers' and were pleased to see she was doing well. Some of the younger women that registered were nosey and wished they had had the speed she obviously had to apply; Rachel and Jane, who she had seen giggling over the advert, privately agreed that they would not have been able to cope with her workload.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before long Lucien started to think of school for the older children.

"I'm just not sure how to go about it," he mused to Jean one evening. "They read, but there is such a gap in their education … maths, history, science, geography …" he sighed.

"Perhaps a tutor, for the oldest four?" she put down her knitting, "to see where they are and then to bring them on?"

"Sounds like an idea," he hummed.

"Doctor," she hummed, "when you register the children for school they are going to need their dates of birth …"

"I only know Li's, May's we can have a good guess at, the others …"

"I wonder if any of them remember?"

"Suyin won't."

"No, but we can give her one, I suppose."

"We'll have to."

Curtis and Will knew their birthdays, Lottie wasn't so sure but, she said, it was near Christmas.

"Suyin was a baby when the nuns found her. A car had been overturned on the road …"

"… she was the only survivor," Curtis continued. "It was after we all arrived, doc, we all sort of arrived at the same time. Then Elizabeth, May's mother, arrived just before May was born. The other nuns didn't want her, but she wasn't strong enough to go any further, then some soldiers came, Japs, and they ran away. We hid in the crypt."

Lucien patted his shoulder. "Well, boys, I reckon May is now about five months, so I'll give her …" he took down the calendar from the kitchen that Jean used to mark off dates for bills to be paid, "August twelfth, Suyin … hm, shall we say June fifth?"

They looked at each other and nodded.

"That was my mother's birthday, Lottie how about first of December? Not too close to Christmas …"

"Alright," she nodded.

He wrote all their birthdays down.

"Best put yours down as well," Jean teased.

"If mine goes down, so does yours," he teased back.

She blushed.

He sat with his pen poised and his eyebrows raised.

"January thirteenth," she muttered.

"Lovely, next week, then." He grinned.

She blushed, again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jean hummed to herself as she prepared breakfast; the children would be clattering down the stairs shortly, she had May in the kitchen with her, as always, now in a high chair her mother had sent down.

And there it was, the unmistakable thunder of five pairs of feet.

"Happy birthday, Jean!" they crowded round her and hugged her, pressing homemade cards at her, laughing.

She had hoped they'd forgotten, but it would seem not. She returned their hugs, thanked them and opened the cards. They had all drawn their own pictures, flowers, smiley faces, suns, even Suyin had tried, and inside each one was a message of thanks and love. In just a couple of weeks she had found what she would never have had with Christopher.

"This one's from May," Li passed her another card. "We all helped her."

"I'm sure you did." It was a hand-print in paint, they often drew and painted, Lucien said they could probably put a lot of what they felt into a drawing so she hadn't bothered when they spent a day with paper in the dining room.

"It took ages to get the paint off her hands, without you seeing," Lottie giggled.

"I bet, but it's lovely, thank you, thank you all, they are all lovely." She moved them to the side, "now, eat."

They found their places and helped themselves to cereal, toast, bacon and eggs and eventually Lucien joined them.

"Happy birthday, Jean," he passed her a card and a small gift.

"Oh, doctor, you shouldn't have," she swallowed.

He waved her comment away and sat down to eat his breakfast.

She opened the card, it was a sweet little card, a picture of a spray of cherry blossom and inside a simple greeting.

"To Jean,

With very best wishes on your birthday,

Lucien Blake."

The gift was a brooch, enamel, in the shape of a flower.

"Oh, it's lovely," she fingered it and wondered where he had got it.

He shrugged, a little embarrassed, it was something he had found some years ago and thought it might make a good present, for someone, and now he had decided who should be the recipient.

"Plans for today, doctor?" she poured him a cup of tea.

"Got a meeting with the hospital board. They are looking for another surgeon to join the team, I thought I'd see if I would do."

Jean thought the board would be fools if they turned him down, he was so gentle with the patients he had, she was sure he would be exceptionally kind with any he treated in hospital, he'd be good with trauma victims, she supposed, after all he had gone through.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lucien had no idea Patrick Tyneman was on the hospital board. He knew him from childhood, they had both attended the boarding school in Melbourne, Lucien after his mother died and Patrick for all of his school days. They had butted heads regularly. Patrick was a snob and thought he was above a doctor's son, and it didn't help that Lucien scored higher than he did in the classes they took together, such as science and mathematics. Lucien just thought he was pig-headed and rode on his father's coat-tails.

However, it wasn't Patrick's decision, it was up to the doctors and surgeons who sat on the board, and they had worked with his father, which worked in his favour. He was appointed as a consultant in both surgery and medicine while still able to run his own practice.

As he left there was a woman waiting outside the boardroom, she looked nervous.

"Interview?" he asked with a smile.

She nodded, "Pathology Registrar, you?"

"Dr Lucien Blake, consultant. Good to meet you …?"

"Dr Harvey." She looked at the hand he offered and decided manners decree she shake it. It was warm and dry, the skin was soft.

"Good luck, Dr Harvey." He nodded, "don't be nervous, just imagine them all naked."

"What?" she gasped, as the door opened and she was ushered in.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Picturing Patrick Tyneman naked did nothing for her sensibilities but, surprisingly she was offered the post.

They gave her a week to find herself some accommodation and begin her job in the labs, and sometimes in the morgue.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello, Blake, you're looking mighty pleased with yourself," Matthew hailed him as he headed back to the car.

"Managed to get in at the hospital, surgery, medicine," he grinned.

"How're the kids?"

"Grand, we've given them dates as birthdays, though the boys remembered theirs, and it's Jean's today."

"You've given them dates?" Matthew scratched his head.

"Had to," he shoved his hands in his pockets, "I knew Li's, of course, but we can only guess at May and Suyin, Lottie said hers was near Christmas so we gave her the first of that month. The embassy gave me enough paperwork to bring them here, as my wards, but that's a far as it goes. I won't abandon them, Matthew, they've been through hell …"

"So've you," Matthew reminded him.

"Yeah, but they're only children."

Matthew knew he was right.

"Legalities?"

"Nobody is taking them away from me, Matthew. The embassy weren't much help, but they did at least give me some paperwork. There must be plenty of displaced children after what happened, all over the world, I can only help these five, but it's five that won't take space in an orphanage."

"That'll stop Sister Josephine moaning, up at Mount Clear," Matthew muttered.

"That place still running? Dad used to do their health care, years ago."

"Did he? Wonder who does it now? Still I expect you'll find out," Matthew laughed. "Anyway, can't stop, someone's reported a missing person."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, old man Rogers, remember him?"

Blake tipped his head and thought.

"He used to give us fruit off his trees …"

"Oh, yes, I remember. He was a nice chap."

"Yeah, well no one's seen him for a few days, I'm off to see if he's ok."

"Hasn't anyone knocked on his door?" Lucien fell into step with his old friend.

"No answer."

"Want some company?"

"Why, you're not a copper?"

"He might be hurt, I'm a doctor."

Matthew shrugged, it was a possibility and at least Blake could check Mr Rogers over.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They tried knocking and shouting through the letter box to no avail. Lucien wandered round the back of the small bungalow and found a forced window.

"Lawson!"

"What?" Matthew skidded to a halt. "Oh, that doesn't bode well."

"Give me a bunk up," Lucien placed his hands on the sill, Matthew cupped his hands under his foot and heaved.

Lucien fell head first into Mr Rogers' kitchen, picked himself up and dusted himself off. He unlocked the door and let Matthew in.

"Breakfast," Lucien looked at a rasher of bacon and a fried egg, congealed on a plate, a cup of cold tea and butter softened by the summer heat. "Been there a while."

Matthew hummed, thinking he wasn't going to like what they found.

"Matthew!" Lucien called from the small living room, "in here."

He was kneeling beside a body.

"Bugger," Matthew grunted.

"Quite. Blow to the head, probably killed him immediately."

"Poor old sod." Matthew went to the dresser, "robbery, gone wrong?" He lifted a wallet, empty save for a few pennies. The papers in the dresser had been strewn around the room, there was the remains of a vase that had been broken. Leaving Lucien to examine Mr Rogers' body, Matthew moved through the few rooms and found many things disturbed, thrown on the floor and broken. As far as he was aware Mr Rogers had very little in the way of money, or valuables, he was known to live frugally, grew his own fruit and vegetables and didn't drink.

"I'd call it murder, Matthew. Do you recall if he had any family?"

Matthew shook his head, "No, I think that was why he was so kind to us boys."

"Best get him down to the morgue, for an autopsy."

"Yeah."

"Phone?"

"At the end of the road."

"Ambo."

"Right, I'll call it in, let the boss know."

"Who is the 'boss' now?"

"Doug Ashby."

"Ah, friend of my parents, if I remember rightly."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Matthew wasn't long making the call and said an ambulance would be up shortly, and a few more coppers to examine the scene.

"Ashby says your dad used to do the autopsies and do you want to carry on a family tradition. It's on a fee basis."

With six children to care for and a housekeeper and nanny to pay, Lucien knew he couldn't afford to turn down work, even if his father had left him comparably well off.

"Might as well." He shrugged.