Father Brown sat in the presbytery living room and waited for Father Moreton to give his reasons for refusing to marry Jean and Lucien. They mainly hinged on Lucien's non-attendance at church for any reason, that he had been known to fight in the streets and that Jean was supposed to marry someone else.
Father Brown sighed.
"Major, Dr Lucien Blake has seen more horrors than you can imagine," he began, "the fight, I believe, was to stop a mob beating an innocent young lad to death – he will always champion the little man, the underdog. He doesn't attend church because he feels abandoned by God, and though I know he hasn't been, I can understand why he feels this way. That being said he is one of the best men I had the pleasure of knowing during the war, his strength in the camp, desperately trying to keep his comrades alive is unmatched. As for the man you think Jean should marry, he married someone else, he hurt Jean with the letter he sent and now he pursues her with anger rather than love. With the children he has taken in, rather than consigning them to an orphanage, they are a family in all but name. Now, Father Moreton, I propose you take a Saturday morning off in, say four weeks' time, publish the banns and I shall conduct the ceremony Jean and Lucien deserve. I'm sure the bishop won't mind, but we can check if you like." He smiled genially and waited for Father Moreton to object.
Father Moreton had the occasional call from the bishop to ask why he had done something that caused a member of his congregation to contact him. His strict adherence to the church doctrine had caused two young couples to marry elsewhere because they had 'sinned' and been caught out, much like Christopher, and he had been so judgemental they had gone to the Anglican church.
"You knew him, during the war?"
"I did, and a better man I couldn't have met."
"Hm, well, I suppose I could take a morning," Moreton hummed, wondering if he could get some fishing in.
"Marvellous!"
"I assume Jean will continue to come to mass and confession?"
"I'm sure she will."
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"Must've been something I said," Father Brown hummed as he took tea with Jean and Lucien. "He seemed to think a bit more when I suggested contacting the bishop to check if it would be acceptable."
"Might be because he refused to marry a young couple who had slipped up," Jean mused.
"Ah," the priest nodded. "So, the banns are to be posted, you have the date set …"
"All I have to do is finish my dress, make the girls' dresses, arrange for the boys to have suits tailored …" she sighed.
"I can see to the boys," Lucien touched her hand, "we can go together."
"The reception?" Father Brown reminded them.
"Oh," Jean brightened, "that's my mother's area. We're having it in the barn, which was what I was originally going to have because it's big and we can have a proper party. The children will be able to run around instead of sitting quietly and getting bored."
"Well," he smiled, "if there's anything I can do to help … as I'm staying there."
"I'm sure they'd welcome that," she agreed, "and you are welcome to stay."
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Albert Randall told his wife to get on with sewing and cooking, he could run the farm with help from the priest, if he was willing.
The priest was more than willing, he was having the time of his life; whatever Albert asked of him he did to the best of his ability. He ditched his priestly garb, except for his collar, and wore a pair of Albert's trousers with his own shirts. He was a great help. He shifted tables and chairs into the barn, moved boxes of crockery, glassware and cutlery, he even folded napkins.
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Everybody did what they could to make this wedding happen. Mary and Jean sewed, Lucien did take the boys for suits, gave the tailor a sample of the bridesmaids' dress fabric for ties, and even managed to get Jean to the jewellers to have the engagement ring re-sized and wedding rings ordered.
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By now everybody knew Jean Randall was marrying Dr Lucien Blake. Patients, on the whole, congratulated them, people who met her in town and the shops she routinely went into wished her well. Inevitably there were some that thought she was getting above herself, and some who were jealous, but that was only to be expected and she paid them no never mind. However, Christopher did not take the news well.
His father and mother tried to talk some sense into him, told him that if he had ever loved her he would let her go, but he went out, got drunk, got into fights, got arrested. He threatened to go to the church and disrupt the proceedings when they got to the 'if any man here knows any reason …' part he was going to find a reason to stop them. Mr and Mrs Beazley pleaded begged and cajoled but it did no good, all that happened was he got drunk, went and hammered on the door of the Blake house, which frightened Suyin and May, more than the older children. For this he was arrested, again, and given an order that if he stepped one foot onto their drive he would be arrested for trespass. It saddened Jean, that he had come to this and even though she knew that they would never have been happy, they could at least have been friends after he came back. She might even have been friends with his wife, had she lived. But all that was in the past and in her imagination. She was going to marry Lucien, who she loved with all her heart, and that was that. He would just have to get used to the idea.
Two days before the wedding he picked a fight with one of the constables who went to the pub in order to remove him, and charge him with drunkenness and affray.
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"Ashby's had enough of his shenanigans," Matthew huffed, "he's keeping him locked up until after the wedding. He's been charged with drunkenness and affray and assault of a police officer."
"Is the officer alright?" Jean ran her hands through her hair.
"A bit bruised, but he's a big lad and it will take more than Christopher to take him down."
"Good." She sighed.
"Right, soon to be Mrs Blake," Lucien smiled and poured them all a drink. "this is the last night you will spend here as a single lady, let's forget about thwarted suitors …"
"Good idea, Blake," Matthew grinned. "How are you going to negotiate not seeing each other on the morning?"
"Jean and the girls are going up to the farm for the night," Lucien pouted, "you and me and the boys are staying here, apparently we can be trusted to get ourselves dressed on the day and arrive on time."
"That's on you, Matthew," she smiled, "as best man, please keep him in order."
"Ma'am," he laughed, "here's to you, good luck, Jean, you're going to need it."
Lucien had had his buck's night a few days previous, just him, Matthew, Albert and Father Brown. They had taken him out to a pub and let him have his head when it came to drinking. He felt dreadful the next day, but as he rarely drank to excess and even then it was only one or two over his usual limit, Jean forgave him. Her hen's night had been her and her mother, Alice and a few friends from school who were attending the wedding. They had gone to a restaurant for a meal and shared some bottles of wine, but none had overdone it. She was clear headed that morning as she passed Lucien a glass of water and some bex.
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Jean woke early to the still familiar sight of her old bedroom ceiling. Tucked in the corner was the cot with May humming away, Suyin was on a camp bed next to her and still asleep.
There was much to do before the wedding. The barn had to have its final dressings done, the food had to have last minute touches added and the cake to be set in the middle of the 'top table'. Mary covered everything with clean tea towels, Albert set the wines and champagne to chill and then everybody had to get ready. Mary did her daughter's hair, setting the loose curls around her face and just off her shoulders, pinning it in place and adding little heads of blossom from the trees. Li and Lottie were dressed in their bridesmaids dresses of emerald green and circlets of fresh flowers pinned in their hair. Then Jean was dressed.
Tiny pearl buttons fastened the dress down the back of the bodice. The simply styled dress fitted perfectly, it's sweetheart neckline and long fitted sleeves, the skirt just skimmed the floor, not too full – just right – all covered with a layer of fine lace that also edged her veil.
May and Suyin were the last to get dressed, it being feared they would wander out into the yard and get dirty when everybody's backs were turned. Their little dresses in a paler green than the bridesmaids echoed those dresses but were in a cotton that would wash so they could be worn again as summer dresses.
"Well, girl," Albert looked at her with pride, "you sure about this?"
"Oh dad, of course I am, I have never been so sure about anything." Jean laughed.
"Good."
There was a knock on the door and Alice poked her head in. "May I?"
"Alice, of course," Jean held out her hands, "you look lovely."
"Thank you, Jean, you look amazing, what a beautiful dress."
"Thank you, it's mainly mum's doing."
"Well, I'm here to take her and the girls down to the church," Alice smiled.
"We're ready," Li grinned.
"Well, if you are, shall we go, then you and your father can follow in the other car, it's just arrived."
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Lucien fiddled nervously with his cuffs while Matthew regaled the boys with tales of their childhood adventures.
"She'll be here, Blake," Father Brown soothed.
"Of course she will," he lifted his head and inhaled deeply.
Guests had arrived and waited patiently, hushed conversations and smiles were all that were heard in the church.
"Gran's here," Will whispered.
"And the girls," Curtis turned around to see.
"She's on her way," Matthew smiled and watched Alice, who he was curious about, take her seat. She nodded and smiled, all was well.
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Mary tidied the dress, Albert offered Jean his arm and Li and Lottie took their places behind her.
"Come on little ones," Mary whispered, Lifting May onto her hip and taking Suyin's hand, "we have to wait for mama at the front."
"Thanks, mum," Jean whispered.
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Lucien hardly dare turn around as the Wedding March started up. Father Brown smiled and nodded.
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"… you may kiss the bride."
The church erupted in cheers, led by the children who didn't know better, and didn't really care, anyway; and Lucien kissed Jean quite firmly, which made her blush.
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The reception was truly a celebration. There were speeches; Albert spoke about how proud he was of Jean and blessed to have Lucien as a son-in-law, how he wished them a long and happy life. Father Brown also made a speech, about how he knew Lucien, how strong he was and that he was sure he would keep Jean safe and make her happy.
Toasts were made, the cake was cut and there was dancing and merriment into the evening. As the children began to tire, Mary took them to their beds in the farmhouse, they were to stay with them while the newlyweds went home for the night and then on for a honeymoon that nobody knew where, not even the bride. With six children to cater for she was happy with just one night alone with her husband.
Jean danced the first dance with Lucien, as she should then with her father as Lucien danced with Mary. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Alice shyly accept Matthew's offer of a turn around the dancefloor. He hoped one day they too would find such happiness as he had, whether it was separately or together. He was fond of Alice, she was a little like a sister to him, and Matthew had always been like a brother.
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Lucien unlocked the door, pushed it open then swung Jean up into his arms.
"Lucien!" she squealed.
"Just got to carry you across the threshold, wife," he teased, "my duty."
"You are such a silly man," she put her arms round his neck. "I do love you."
He set her gently on her feet, despite intending to carry her to the bedroom and drop her on the bed.
"How did I get this lucky?" he stroked her cheek.
"I'm the lucky one," she breathed.
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Jean woke as the early morning sun spread it's rays over the bed. One arm was flung over the body of her husband, one leg over his. His gentle snores mingled with the birdsong floating on the air. They were both naked; she had never slept naked in her life but somehow nightwear had been forgotten when Lucien took her to bed and made love to her for the first time.
He had been gentle, assured her he would stop if she wanted him to but with every kiss, every touch she wanted more. She wasn't afraid, even though the 'mother-daughter' talk had ended up with both her and Mary giggling because she didn't really need it.
"At least, love," Mary had hummed, "I know you don't have to get married, not like your sister."
"You were so disappointed in Maggie," Jean sighed, "I resolved never to put you through that again."
"I love Danny and Amy, Jean, but she should have taken more care, if she was going to behave like that."
She was glad she had waited and not given in to Christopher's pestering, she didn't think he would have been as gentle as Lucien.
Jean thought back on her first time, the first of many, she hoped. She had been a little shy at Lucien seeing her with no clothes on but he had been almost as reticent at her seeing the scars from his time in the camp, so on that they were on an equal footing, she thought. He had lain her on the bed and settled beside her, trailing his fingers down her body, kissing her, flicking his tongue over her pert nipples, leaving marks where they would not show when she dressed.
She had traced her fingers down some of the scars, trying to erase them; it made him shiver. She kissed them and he knew that it didn't matter that he was broken, she had begun to heal him when she took her hands in his that night he told her of the camp and the punishments, his healing continued.
When he finally settled between her legs and tentatively entered her, just a little at a time until she was ready for him to sheath himself in her fully; it was strange, stretching, wonderful despite the slight initial discomfort, but she wanted this and with each stroke she urged him on until the orgasm that overtook her blew her mind. She had never felt so complete as she floated down from somewhere among the stars. She was breathless. He roared as he flooded her with his seed, she held him until finally he slipped out of her and flopped to her side.
"Jean?"
"Oh Lucien," she sighed, "I do love you."
"My own."
"Always."
They had finally drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.
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"I suppose we'd better collect the children," she hummed after they had had a late, lazy breakfast and made love again. She rolled the old towels she had used to protect the bedlinen and took them to the dustbin.
"Nope," he grinned.
"Lucien," she frowned.
"They are staying with your parents, we are going to Adelaide."
"Adelaide?!" she shrieked.
"Yep, we are having a week away, just the two of us. Nobody knows where we are going, just that we will be away for a week. I'd like to take you on a trip to Europe, but we can't leave them for that long, so Adelaide."
"But, we'll spend all the time travelling."
"Not by air," he shrugged. "You said you wanted to go further than Melbourne, Adelaide is doable for a week. We need to pack, and get to the airport."
"So, you and mum and dad have been plotting?"
"We have."
She shook her head and smiled, what had she done to deserve so much love?
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He had considered the hotels in Adelaide, but they all had set mealtimes and they were newlyweds who might not make it for breakfast! So, he had found a little cottage to rent near the beach. They could eat out, or grab something for a picnic. It was still warm enough to swim, so after unpacking and looking around the little house he bought her a swimming costume for such days. He would wear shorts and a singlet, not wanting to show off all his scars to the general public.
They explored the city, he took her to the theatre, to wherever she wanted to go. They did swim, they found hidden places they could kiss and cuddle without being seen though Jean drew the line and hiding under a rug and making love. However, no place was off limits in the cottage, the living room, the bath, he'd wandered up behind her in the kitchen one evening and lifted her skirts and pulled her knickers down.
"Lucien!" she gasped as she felt his fingers explore her, "oh god," she reached behind and found he was wearing his robe, and only his robe. He pulled her backwards until he was sitting on a chair and lifted her onto him. It was the first time he had taken her from behind and used his fingers to help her to completion. She nearly fell off his knee as she came at the same time as him.
She giggled.
He huffed. But at least she wasn't angry.
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All too soon their week came to an end, and they packed their things, tidied up and passed the key back to the agent.
"I suppose the kitchen's off limits, now," he hummed.
"There are some things May does not need to see," she smiled, "but when they're in bed …" she grinned conspiratorially.
"Wicked woman," he didn't add that Li's mother would never entertain the idea of sex anywhere but the bedroom.
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As they alighted from the plane they could see Albert waving. Jean had slept on the plane and was quite refreshed, Lucien grinned and waved back.
"You planned this as well?"
"Everything," he agreed.
She didn't think he was usually this organised and had a feeling her mother had very much been involved.
"I wonder how the children are."
"Having stayed with grandparents probably uncontrollable," he laughed.
"I doubt it," she shook her head, "mum is kind, and a bit of a softy, so is dad, but they won't let them get away with bad behaviour or late bedtimes."
Albert hugged his daughter and shook hands with Lucien and told them they both looked extremely well.
"Must be the sea air," Lucien quipped. Albert gave him a side-ways look, Jean looked anywhere but at the two of them.
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Albert thought he had never seen his daughter look so happy as he drove them back to the house. Mary had said she would take the children there, put all their clothes away and have the kettle on for when they returned. While it had been hard work looking after six children she had enjoyed the week. The older children had been very helpful, both in the house and around the farm, and she had noticed that Albert didn't seem to mind having a small child underfoot when he was working. Her elder daughter, Maggie, wasn't keen on Danny and Amy getting that dirty, but she didn't know what they got up to when she left them with her. Maggie's husband had been killed in the Solomons, he had been in the same unit as Christopher Beazley who had narrowly missed being killed himself. She had sold off the house Ralph had bought, found a job as a housekeeper, though Mary had no idea how, and moved herself and the children in. Within the year she had married the man she worked for, a factory owner, and was nicely set, now. When Maggie had admitted she had got pregnant by Ralph Parks before she had a ring on her finger, Mary had been mortified. She had brought both girls up to be good girls, living by the rules of the church and had scolded both of them. Ralph had immediately stepped up and said they would be married and he would do his best by her. Maggie hadn't been too thrilled with the idea but she didn't really have a choice. Mary didn't think she loved her new husband but he was well off and she could now afford a housekeeper so she didn't have to do much in the house. Maggie hadn't attended Jean's wedding, a previous engagement, she said; Jean was only sad that the children wouldn't meet their step cousins.
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"Mum! Dad!" the older children came running out to greet them, Mary held May and Suyin so they wouldn't get trampled in the rush.
Jean and Lucien were nearly bowled over by the onslaught of teenagers.
"We missed you!" Li squealed.
"We missed you, too," Jean laughed.
"Yes, we missed you thundering down the stairs in the morning," Lucien joined in, "and eating all the biscuits," this last he aimed at Will who grinned.
Jean reached out for May and Lucien lifted Suyin as they all went into the house, their house, their home.
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Mary and Albert left after sharing a pot of tea and accepting the gifts chosen for them.
"I know," Jean smiled, "but you've done so much for us …"
They had gifts for the children too, books for the older ones, and rag dolls for Suyin and May.
"I've put dinner in the fridge," Mary hugged Jean, "cold meat and salad, and placed orders to be delivered from Davidson and Vernon's tomorrow, I hope it's what you want."
"Thanks, mum, for everything. I know you helped Lucien organise things, and for looking after the children, I'm sure they had a wonderful time."
"They are lovely, all of them, Lucien," Mary looked at her son-in-law, "they do you credit."
"A lot of that is down to Jean, Mary, and to you," he smiled and kissed her cheek, "thank you, for everything."
"I should thank you," she whispered, "for loving my daughter, and respecting her."
"Always, Mary, always."
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Jean and Lucien settled down to being man and wife, but nothing much changed; the children seemed to be more settled in themselves and referred to them as their parents until one day Curtis came home in a very dark mood.
Being the eldest his memory of his natural parents was stronger than Will's or Lottie's though they too had their own memories.
He had been playing cricket with some boys at school when the sport's master had come and suggested he try out for the school team.
"Well, sir," he leant on his bat, "I would have to ask my parents, though I'm sure father will be all for it."
"Good lad," the master patted him on the shoulder, "you show some promise."
"Thank you, sir, I'll ask tonight."
"Try outs are tomorrow evening."
Curtis returned to the game.
"What did he want?" one boy asked.
"He wants me to try out for the school team."
"Oh, is that a problem?"
"Not as far as I'm aware," he shook his head. "I'll have to ask dad if I can come over tomorrow …"
"Your father? Has he been found, then?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, didn't he go missing during the war, with your mum?"
"Dr Blake is my father now."
"He isn't, he's just a bloke who found you and took you in."
"He darn well his," Curtis growled, "he's actually a better father than my own, to all of us."
"What happens if he has more kids with his new wife?"
"Why would that matter?"
"Well, they'd be his real kids …"
"Look here, Whiston, he's my father," he balled his fists, "and no one is going to tell me anything else, ok."
But it did set him wondering. There was room for more children, Jean's room was now empty because she slept with Lucien, and they were even considering making the studio into a suite. The extra curtained off space that Lucien's artist mother had used for painting in would make a bedroom for them, and the side room she used to clean her things would make a bathroom, they'd all been in on the idea, that would also leave Lucien's room free. And he loved being part of a large family, he'd been an only child up until the war, it was a bit lonely, just him and his mother when his father was at work. By the end of the day, he was quietly angry with his team-mate suggesting he didn't have parents.
"Curtis?" Jean set the after school snacks on the table, "is something wrong?" she stroked his head.
"Can I talk to you and dad, later?"
"Of course you can, love," she smiled, "we are always here to listen."
"Right," he nodded and started on his biscuit.
Something had happened at school she assumed, something more than the usual petty scuffles children had daily. He looked quite down, she thought, almost as if someone had sucked all the love out of his life. Whatever it was, she determined, she and Lucien would put the love back and reassure him.
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By the time Lucien arrived, fresh from annoying Matthew and Inspector Ashby over the latest murder case, Curtis seemed to have brightened a little. He'd spent some time helping Jean in the kitchen as if he needed to be near her, to be sure. She gave him tasks to do, setting the table, washing the pots she'd used and putting the dishes of vegetables and potatoes on the table when it was time to eat.
"Thank you, Curtis," she smiled at him, "you have been a great help."
"'s ok," he mumbled.
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Whatever was bothering Curtis it didn't affect his appetite, Jean was pleased to see, but he was still very quiet. The others talked about their day, even Suyin joined in the chatter these days. She was still friends with little Freddie and reports from the school were that she was bringing him out as much as he did her. Jean had arranged for May to have a little playmate a couple of times a week to prevent her becoming lonely, having been so used to having the five older children around her so she had something to say about her day. Lucien was able to keep the most distressing part of his day out of the conversation, this he would get off his shoulders when the children were in bed and it was just he and Jean a sherry and a whisky.
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Curtis was always the last to bed, by about ten minutes or so, so it didn't surprise Will that he went downstairs after he had washed.
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Jean looked up as he tiptoed into the studio.
"Come in, Curtis," she made room for him on the couch, "what's bothering you?"
"Well," he fiddled with his fingers, "I was asked to try out for the school cricket team …"
"That's a good thing," Lucien interrupted.
"Yeah, it is," he agreed, "but when I told the boys I would have to ask my father first …" he sniffed. Jean couldn't remember him ever crying, not in front of them, anyway. She reached for him and held him close.
"I don't have a problem with you trying out," Lucien frowned at his tears.
"… one, Whiston, asked if he'd been found. He said you were just some bloke who found me and took me in." He was crying properly now, Jean gave him her handkerchief. "That I don't have a father."
"Curtis," Lucien cleared his throat, "you do have a father. I said, when I took you from that orphanage that I wouldn't abandon you, that we would be together, and I still hold that to be true. The army know where I am, where you are and so far there has been nothing, and yes, I do check from time to time. It's been over two years, son, as far as I am concerned you are my son, so is Will; Lottie, Suyin and May are as much my daughters as Li is."
"He wanted to know what would happen if you and mum have kids, your own kids, your real kids …"
"Well, it'll get a bit busy here," Jean smiled, "but you would still be our son, Curtis, there would be no change there. We love you, we love you all."
"So, what do I do about Whiston?"
"If he says anything like that to you, again, if anyone says anything like that, you send them to us," Lucien put his hand on his shoulder. "Now, try out for the team, I'll pick you up afterwards."
"You will?" Curtis looked up in surprise, Jean always did the dropping off and picking up.
"Yes, I will," Lucien nodded firmly; Jean thought she might have to remind him, but he would be there, come hell or high water.
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"Lucien?" Jean lay with her head on his chest.
"Hm?"
"Curtis …"
"What about him?"
"Can we do more, for him and the others?"
"In what way?"
"Well," she shifted and propped herself up on her elbow, "you say you keep checking to see if their families have been found, and after over two years …"
"… nearly three," he hummed.
"… nearly three years there has been nothing."
"No," he sighed heavily.
"So, could we make it more formal, more … well so he doesn't worry we'll throw them out if we have children together."
"What are you thinking?"
"Currently, welfare could take them off us, couldn't they?"
"They'd have a hard job, the guardianship is totally legal."
"But if they decided to be difficult?"
"You sound as if you've had experience of this."
"Not me, but others. When I was at school. But, would we be able to formally adopt them?"
He shifted up the bed and looked at her. It had crossed his mind but he didn't think it was necessary, however if Curtis was getting bothered by some of the boys at school, who was to say the girls didn't.
"Do you think it would make a difference?"
"To them? Yes, I do. They should feel more secure, that they truly are our family."
"I'll have to talk to our lawyer, I suppose, see how difficult it would be."
"Good, you do that," she smiled, kissed him and snuggled down again.
He lay there thinking. Growing up without his mother hadn't been easy, but mostly he put that down to the fractured relationship with his father. True, there had been rumours about how Genevieve died, at a party, taken ill and died on the operating table was the story he was told and the one he believed, why shouldn't he. His mother lit up any room she walked into, the life and soul of the party, it was tragic and some even said it was her own fault. It was a long time ago, his memory was hazy, at best. He sighed, settled back down next to Jean and slipped into slumber.