Navigating the train journey to Liverpool to catch the liner was relatively easy. The older girls looked after the boys, and it wasn't a long journey, so it wasn't a chore to keep them occupied. For the most part they looked out of the window and watched the countryside go by.
"It was lovely of everybody to see us off," Meg hummed. "I will miss them."
"Of course you will, sweetheart," Jean gave her a hug, "but you can write, and they can write, and, if when you are grown and making your own way in the world, you want to go back, well, we won't ever stop you."
"Thanks, mum."
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Nell Clasby showed her sister the letter. Of course she knew Lucien would have written to his father, but the chances of him reading it were slim, no matter how much she berated him. He would just grunt and fill out her prescription. He couldn't really remember why he had cut Lucien off; he had been a rebellious child, in his opinion, his mother let him have his head and when she died, Nell was right, he did remind him of her, too much. She had tried to show him the photographs Jean sent of his grandchildren, and the one they had adopted when her parents had died in the war. Nevertheless, as his health began to fail, not enough for him to stop working, he had made his will, leaving everything to Lucien and his family, whether he came back or not.
"I suppose you are going to wave it under Thomas' nose," Agnes huffed.
"Agnes, as if I would," Nell laughed. "I shall tell him, or maybe ask him if he has read Lucien's latest letter, the housekeeper tells me when they arrive. If he admits he hasn't, for I shall know, you know, I shall tell him they are coming home and that he better get the house ready for an influx of children."
"He'll hate it, five, he is bringing the adopted one isn't he?"
Nell nodded, "of course."
"… five children, he couldn't cope with one."
"There is Jean, his wife. According to Lucien she had the village eating out of her hand …"
"She let him write that?"
"No, he wrote separately, he wanted his father to know he had married a wonderful – his word – woman, who was brave and resourceful. She'll have Thomas eating out of her hand in no time."
"Let's hope so, grumpy old sod."
"Agnes!"
"So, when's he due to arrive?"
"Three weeks."
"You mean they're on their way."
"Lucien sent this before they sailed."
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Over in her kitchen, Edith was reading the same information from Jean; her sister was coming home, she was actually rather excited. Amy and Danny were in school, she would go over and see her mother and let her know Jean was coming home and bringing her family.
But Mrs Randall wasn't interested.
"You'll get to meet your other grandchildren, mum," Edith pleaded, "don't you care?"
"Made her bed …" Mrs Randall huffed, "should have married Christopher, kept to her level."
"Christopher still hasn't married, mum, strikes me he was never going to, Jean or anybody. And why shouldn't she have ambition, from the letters …"
"Pah, stories, all of them."
Edith gave up, time and again, each time Jean had written she had told of her adventures, of the children, the scrapes they got into, the evacuees, the parties at the big house, even Hans, bit not once did her mother show that she cared, or that she believed her or that she was proud of her daughter. She told her father and maybe he took a little more interest, but he was always a quiet man, never giving his feelings away. It was really very sad, Edith thought, but there was nothing she could do about it.
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Dr Thomas Blake did as he always did with his son's letters, dropped it in a box in the study and left it there, with the others, all unopened. No doubt Nell would tell him all about it, fussy old woman.
She did. Gave him chapter and verse on how she felt about his steadfast refusal to give the boy a chance.
"Well, he's coming home, perhaps you'd better get the rooms ready," she huffed.
"Why would I do that?"
"Where else is he going to stay?"
Thomas just shrugged.
"Stubborn old fool," she hissed, took her prescription and wondered why she still used him as her GP.
"Miss Clasby?" The housekeeper stopped her, "young Dr Blake?"
"Curious, Martha?" Nell smiled.
"I don't suppose you would care to take tea with a housekeeper, would you?" Curiosity had finally got the better of Martha Rhodes, that and the raised voices.
"That would be delightful."
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They took tea in the living room and Nell finally told her some of the story, being the latest in a line of housekeepers she was unfamiliar with the life of Thomas and Genevieve and Lucien.
"So he is coming home, and with his family?" she hummed. "Well, I suppose the guest room for him and his wife, then upstairs for the children. I'll have to sort out beds, unless the two older girls would be alright sharing a bed, to start with. We could manage, I think."
"Martha?"
"You're right, Miss Clasby, where else would he stay? Leave it with me. After all, he is quite the hero, isn't he?"
Nell gave her a sideways look, but at least they would have somewhere to stay until they could sort out accommodation to their own satisfaction.
"I shall telegram Lucien on the ship," Nell stood up, "let me know if I can be of any assistance. Agnes and I have known the family for years, great friends with Genevieve, Thomas' wife …"
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She sent a telegram to the ship, letting Lucien know the housekeeper had taken matters into her own hands, and would welcome the family when they arrived.
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"Ah, hmm," he read the short message.
"Lucien?"
Seems father is still being stubborn, but the housekeeper has decided we shall stay there and is sorting out rooms for us all."
"Oh," Jean gasped, "I hope she doesn't get into trouble."
"Knowing Nell she will see that she doesn't."
"I don't think I want the children living in a place where you are at odds with your father."
"It will be fine, even if it is only in the short term." He looked a bit sad, Jean thought, so she kissed him.
An hour later she came out of the bathroom in their suite smoothing down her skirt and giving him a wicked grin. It was a long time since they'd been able to make love in the afternoon, but the children were entertained by people expressly employed on the ship for that purpose and they saw as much of them as they had seen in the village. There were games, stories, toys and all manner of fun for them, and they made new friends.
"I'll send a telegram to Nell, then," he smirked from the bed. "thanking her."
"Best get dressed first, you'll give the purser conniptions."
"Spoilsport."
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Nell saw to it that Martha didn't get into trouble, and told Thomas quite firmly, yet again, he was a cussed old fool. He just glared at her. Martha was a giddy as a schoolgirl, which she found faintly ridiculous, that and constantly referring to Lucien as a 'hero'.
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Most nights they dined as a family, but one night they were invited to dine at the Captain's table.
"We'll be fine," Jenny smiled, "the boys are next to us to, Tommy can come in if he wants to."
"Hm," Jean frowned. "Perhaps I'll ask the steward to pop by …"
Jenny rolled her eyes, but Jean insisted.
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"You look gorgeous," Lucien admired her as she twirled round. "I don't recognise it."
"No, I thought I'd better have something half decent for dinners, just in case. Remember the dinners we had when we sailed over?"
"I do, and you looked just as beautiful."
"You bought most of my things, Lucien, and I never paid you back."
"I think you've paid me back in spades, darling, a lovely home, by my side for over fifteen years, five children … yes, paid in full."
"I do love you, Lucien, it's been a pleasure."
"And a new adventure."
"Yes, a new adventure."
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Dinner was interesting. They were introduced to a lawyer, a vicar and his wife, and another doctor. The lawyer was sailing to visit his sister and her family, and as he was nearing retirement was thinking maybe, as they were the only family he had, he might stay. The vicar had been offered a parish in a small town and thought it a nice way to start his career with his new wife, the doctor was returning home.
"Us too," Jean smiled, the woman was quiet, almost shy, "we've been away fifteen years, time to go home."
"What took you away?" The Captain raised his eyebrows, "for such a long time?"
"I was offered a partnership, Jean wanted to travel, seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Was it?"
"Oh yes, very much so," Jean smiled, "we have five children, lovely memories and friends we are sad to leave, but now, it's time to go home."
"Five children?" the woman doctor, Dr Harvey, gasp, "goodness, where are they?"
"Hopefully behaving themselves in their cabins, we've asked the steward to poke his nose in from time to time." Jean smiled.
"So, Dr Harvey," Lucien smiled, "what took you away from your homeland?"
"I wanted to put as much distance between me and my family as possible and train as a doctor, which they told me was impossible, too stupid, they said."
"Rude," Jean huffed, "I suppose you are going to show them just how wrong there were?"
"No, I don't intend to see them at all, if I can help it. I'm going to Victoria instead of New South Wales and yes, they were very wrong."
"Good degree? Lucien raised an eyebrow.
"Double first, medicine and classics."
"Well," he raised his glass, "here's to you."
"Here, here," Jean echoed, Dr Harvey blushed, she never boasted about her degree, the others toasted her, as well.
"So, travelling alone, doctor?" Lucien put his glass down and attended to his dinner.
"For now, I'm meeting a friend … a friend I met in a convalescent home."
"Well, until they board … I assume they are boarding along the way …?"
"Port Said." She nodded, "he is one of the last to be demobbed from Suez, stayed for some odd reason."
"Until then, if you'd like to join Jean and myself for lunch, you would be most welcome."
"Oh, er," she hummed, "that is very kind of you."
"What part of Victoria are you going to?" Jean nudged him, clearly the woman was rather private, even so she asked the question.
"Er, Ballarat, do you know it?"
Lucien threw back his head and laughed.
"That's where we are headed," Jean glared at him, "where we came from in the first place. We don't know if we'll stay, but our parents haven't met their grandchildren …"
"Who says they want to," Lucien muttered.
"Why wouldn't they? They seem perfectly well manner to me, when you brought them to the bridge."
"Thank you," Jean tipped her head, "well, mainly because we've not been back since before the eldest was born, and she's twelve, and because, well, Lucien doesn't get on with his father, but we don't know why, and my parents and I don't see eye to eye. I didn't want to marry a farmer, I wanted to do something, be something …" she sighed.
"And did you, do something?"
"Well, I sang on the ship coming out, but decided not to pursue it as a career and Lucien's surgery needed a business manager and receptionist so … well, I'm happy with my choice."
"She's been amazing, considering it was a tiny village. She organised the evacuees …"
"That's enough, Lucien, they don't want to know."
"We do," the vicar smiled.
"Brought the squire's wife into the mix, organised a bartering system during the war …"
"The authorities only seemed to know we existed if they wanted to send evacuees or to find one solitary child whose parents had been killed. Other than that, we seemed to drop off the map."
"How lovely," the vicar's wife smiled, "it sounds idyllic."
"I suppose it was, in a way, you wouldn't have thought we were in a war apart from the lack of young men who had been called up and strangely the Ministry of Agriculture seemed to forget we were a farming community so we planted and grew what we liked. We never went short."
"Lucky you," Dr Harvey hummed.
"I suppose we were," Jean smiled, "where were you?"
"In Norfolk," she hummed. "I oversaw a convalescent home for servicemen, all sorts of medical treatments, it was interesting …"
"Lots of experience, then," Lucien observed.
"Indeed."
"So, Ballarat General?"
"Path lab, I like pathology and they've asked if I mind doing autopsies."
"Do you?"
"No, it's all about finding out, isn't? Which could lead to other ways to treat injuries and disease, don't you think?"
"I do," he nodded, "and of course the murder victims?"
"Sadly, yes, that will come into it, but my friend is a police officer and will be at the station there."
"That will be nice for you," Jean smiled, "having a friend there, someone you already know, and, if I may be so forward, I hope you will consider us to be your friends, as well."
"Oh, er, yes, that would be nice."
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"Shall we take them ashore?" Jean pulled on a cardigan.
"Why not, good for them to visit another country, albeit briefly." He shrugged. "Wonder if Dr Harvey would like to join us?"
"I don't think she would quite cope with five inquisitive children, she doesn't seem the type," Jean laughed softly.
"I shall bow to your better judgment," he stood up and kissed her cheek. "Breakfast?"
"Mm, seem to have an appetite this morning."
"Wicked woman."
"You didn't seem to mind, last night," she smiled.
He slipped his arm round her waist and together they went to see if their children were ready for the day.
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They let the purser tick them off his list and headed down the gangplank, Tommy holding his father's hand tight.
"It's quite busy," Jean took Jenny and Meg's hands, "please stay close, children."
She noticed Mattie slip her hand into Lucien's; anyone looking on would never know she was not his natural daughter, Jack held the hem of his father's jacket.
"I see Dr Harvey up ahead," she pointed to a figure hurrying near the bottom of the gangplank and suddenly flinging herself into the arms of a man waiting on the dock. "Ah," Jean smiled, "that kind of friend."
"I don't think she's going to be lonely in Ballarat," Lucien smiled.
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"Well, hello there, Dr Harvey," the man grinned when he was allowed to talk.
"Master Sergeant Lawson," she kissed him again, "I have missed you."
"You'd never know."
"How are you?"
"Well. Doctor, you see I have an injury that might just need looking at," he smirked.
"As your doctor, it is my duty to ensure you are fit for duty."
"I am all yours." He wrapped his arms round her.
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They made love frantically, practically ripping clothes off each other, and lay naked and sated in her parlour suite.
"I don't see you spending much time in that cabin next door," she hummed.
"Probably not," he drew lazy circles on her shoulder.
"I met someone else on the ship heading to Ballarat," she lifted her head. "Small world, isn't it?"
"Oh yeah, who?"
"Lucien Blake, know him?"
He sat up, "What? Lucien Blake, you sure?"
"I'm unlikely to get it wrong, Matthew, you know what I'm like with names." She huffed, "I take it you know him?"
"We were at school together. Well, small world indeed. I wondered what had happened to him, he was at home, after qualifying but his father seemed to cut him off, last I heard he just left."
"He's been in England, partner in a surgery."
"Mind if I catch up with him?"
"Not at all, if he was a friend. Did you know his wife, Jean?"
"Didn't know he was courting, never mind married."
"Just to warn you, then, they have five children."
Matthew whistled. "Bloody hell."
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It was a couple of days before Matthew got the chance to try and find his old friend on the ship, he and Dr Harvey, Alice, had a lot to catch up on. They strolled around the deck until Alice pointed him out, he and Jean were playing deck quoits.
"No sign of any children," Matthew mused.
"There's entertainment for the children, apparently," she hummed, "they spend most of the time with other children, Jean said they were used to being surrounded by others, having lived in a small village all their lives."
"Left a bit," Matthew snuck up behind Lucien and whispered in his ear, causing Lucien to miss his shot.
"What …?" he turned round, "Lawson? Bloody hell!"
"Lucien!" Jean hissed.
"Sorry, Matthew Lawson," he grinned, "good god, man, what a surprise." He clapped him on the back, "what are you doing here?"
"Same as you, going home."
"Hello, Matthew," Jean smiled, "how are you?"
"You know Jean, of course, used to be Jean Randall?" Lucien pulled her to his side.
"Ned Randall's youngest?"
Jean nodded.
"Blimey, you've grown."
Jean tossed her head, "and you, Matthew Lawson haven't changed a bit, always were a cheeky devil."
"You were just a kid when I last saw you."
"Time passes," she moved out of the way of another player and pulled Lucien with her. "Perhaps, coffee, or tea?"
"Good idea, love," her husband smiled.
They found a quiet corner in the lounge and ordered tea and coffee and set to telling their stories. There were questions, clarifications, gasps and shakings of heads but by lunchtime they had just about go the bare bones of each other's stories from the past fifteen or so years, but with the arrival of the children they thought they had better stop.
"Right," Lucien stood behind his children, "here we go, Genevieve, known as Jenny, Matilda, known as Mattie, Marguerite, Meg, Jack, Thomas, Tommy; he touched each child on the head as he introduced them. This, children, is my oldest and best friend from my schooldays, Matthew Lawson, and his friend, Dr Alice Harvey." Though he was sure they were more than friends.
"Well, how about that, never thought I'd see the day, and twins?" he pointed at Jenny and Mattie.
"No," Jean shook her head, "Mattie was evacuated to us, and for reasons we won't go into, we adopted her. But yes, she is the same age as Jenny." She took Mattie's hand to reassure her. Matthew thought she was very protective of her.
"I suppose you lot want feeding?" Lucien laughed.
"Yes please, daddy!" Tommy piped up.
"Bottomless pit," Jean muttered, "Join us?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Oh …" Alice bit her lip.
"It's ok, Dr Harvey," Jenny smiled, "we don't throw food – Mrs Andrews said we had nice manners."
"Mrs Andrews?" Matthew frowned then, "ah, yes, the squire's wife you told us about. Well, who are we to pass up the invitation?" He stood and offered his hand to Alice.
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Indeed the children were well behaved and there were many times over the rest of the voyage that they all ate together, or took a day on shore if the ship docked anywhere interesting. It pleased Jean and Lucien that they would know someone other than their parents in their new home.
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"What happened, Martha?" Nell caught Thomas' housekeeper in the hospital corridor.
"I don't rightly know, Miss Clasby," she wrung her hands, "I got into the house at my usual time and he wasn't in the surgery. So I went and knocked on his bedroom door; I heard a groan and when I looked in he was lying on the floor, staring at me. They say he's had a stroke."
"Oh goodness," Nell sat down, "what do they say?"
"Nothing to me, I'm only the housekeeper," she huffed. "I told 'em his son is on his way home but he's somewhere in the middle of an ocean on a ship."
"Let me try, dear." Nell patted her hand, "at least I'll try to get them to send a telegram to him. He won't be able to get here any faster …"
"No, I suppose not." She sighed, "Shall I wait here?"
"No, you might go back and cancel the appointments."
"Of course."
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Nell waited until the doctors came out of the side room and accosted them. She demanded to know what was happening, how Dr Blake was and told them she would have to send a telegram to his son.
"You are?" the lead physician looked down at her.
"Friend of the family, and the only family he has is on that ship," she huffed and glared at him. "Now, prognosis?"
"Oh, well, he will survive, but it will be a while before we know what effect it will have on his mobility, or his speech. It wasn't as big a stroke as we initially thought."
"Well, that's something more positive I can tell Lucien, rather than 'your father's at death's door'. He should be home in about ten days, if the sailing goes well." She folded her arms. "Now, I shall visit him, his housekeeper will bring his pyjamas and toiletries …"
"He's resting …"
"I should hope so. Anyway, the nurses can see to him for now and I shall pop by later, you can tell him that Nell Clasby will visit."
She turned on her heel and went to send the telegram. 'Poor Lucien', she thought.
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"Oh, god!" Lucien read the short note.
"Lucien?" Jean put her tea cup down.
"Dad, he's had a stroke."
"Oh darling," she took his hand, "Nell?"
"The housekeeper found him, he's alive, in hospital – he won't like that – the doctors are sure he will live but …"
"Mobility? Speech?"
He nodded.
"Well, as soon as we dock you head to the station, I'll deal with the children and the luggage. If we happen to catch the same train, all to the good, but you need to get there as fast as you can."
"Oh damn and blast the man!"
"I doubt he did it just to spite you, dear," she soothed, "but, yes, I understand."
"Sorry."
"Don't be." She knew he would be frustrated that, despite the fractured relationship, he couldn't be there, supervising his father's treatment.
The children were told their grandfather had been taken ill so their father would be rushing off the ship to get to him as fast as possible.
"That means," Jean looked at them seriously, "I shall need your help and cooperation, no running off, no dawdling, stay close to me when we disembark.
"I'll help," Matthew appeared at her shoulder. "Blake's just told us. We haven't got near as much luggage as you, me and Alice'll lend a hand."
"Oh Matthew, would you?" Jean breathed a sigh of relief, "we would be very grateful."
"No worries, Jean, it may be years since we saw each other, but I like to think we are mates …"
"So do I," she smiled.
"I'm going to suggest two taxis to get us to the station … we can split the kiddies between us."
"I have to make sure the trunks are sent on, as well, now I know where we are going."
"Seven Mycroft?"
"Aha," she nodded, "we just put Ballarat on the labels, not knowing if we would be able to stay with Dr Blake, senior."
"Are you, has he agreed?"
"Combination of Miss Nell Clasby and his housekeeper," she smiled, "I think they may have bullied him into it. Lucien says Nell was likely to do that, and she did refer to him as a cussed old fool several times."
"Write regularly, do you?"
"Well, neither he nor my mother deigned to write back so Lucien wrote to the Clasby ladies and I wrote to my sister, in the end."
"What happened there? You said your parents were pushing you to marry …"
Jean told him briefly how she had met Lucien, without the details, and how her parents wanted her to stick to her social level and marry Christopher Beazley …
"From what I remember, Beazley has never married, or even dated," he frowned.
"So Edith said. Mum wanted us to have the same wedding day, Edith got herself in the family with Daniel Parkes so mum decided to have the wedding within the month and for me and Christopher to join them."
"You'd already met Lucien, though."
"And we were already planning to leave, run away. Mum wouldn't listen …"
"Mother knows best, eh?"
"Not always." She shook her head.
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Miss Nell sent regular telegrams on his father's progress. He was awake. He was still a cussed old fool.
"Probably what gets him through," Jean hummed.
"You could be right, determination not to let a little thing like a stroke stop him."
"It's not a little thing though, is it?"
"No, but he'll see it that way, you know we doctors are the worst patients."
"Hmm," she looked at him sideways.
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They docked in Melbourne on a sunny late October day.
"Go," Jean pushed Lucien out of the suite, "we'll see you in Ballarat, or at the station." He kissed her firmly, told her he loved her and ran off. The purser had been alerted to his need to be the first off the ship and was standing by the top of the gangplank.
"Doctor," he smiled, "best of luck."
"Thanks, and thanks for everything."
"The pleasure is all ours." He touched his cap and watched Dr Blake run down and through the already busy dock.
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They must have just missed the train to Ballarat, but as Jean couldn't see Lucien around she had to assume he had made it.
"Well," Matthew hummed, "we have an hour, how about a quick bite to eat in the station café, and maybe we can find these lot some comics or something to keep them occupied."
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For Lucien the train couldn't go fast enough, but eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, he was standing on the station platform looking for a taxi to take him to the hospital. Some people thought they recognised him, but he wasn't interested in having a chat, he just needed to get to see his father.
"Blake?! Lucien Blake!" somebody called and waved across the station, it was a copper.
"Jeez, Lucien, I hardly recognised you, Miss Clasby said you were due back today so I've had someone at the station all day."
"Doug Ashby?"
"The very same, come on, let's get you to the hospital."
"Do you know how dad is?"
"Yeah, doing quite well, so Miss Nell says, she reports to us most days, as I knew you years ago. He's awake, talking …"
"Grumblin' I expect," Lucien mused.
"That's about the size of it." Ashby grinned. "Lost some of the use on his right side, Miss Nell said to tell you."
"I really appreciate this, Doug," Lucien got out of the car, marvelling at the speed they had got there. "When we're all sorted you must come and meet the family."
"Love to, kiddies?"
"Five."
"Bloody hell, Blake, haven't you learnt to keep it in your trousers?!"
Lucien laughed, he didn't want to say Jean had quite a hand in that, sometimes literally.
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The hospital was busy, but not too busy to allow the wandering son to see his father. He stood outside the room, took a deep breath and pushed the door open. He was grateful to see Miss Nell sitting there, reading the paper to him.
"Lucien!" she jumped up and went to wrap him in a hug. "My, oh my, you have filled out."
"Miss Nell, how lovely to see you."
"Yes dear, but it's not me you've come to see," she stood aside and allowed him to go to his father's bedside.
"Dad," he took his hand and squeezed it, "how are you?"
Thomas peered at him, until Nell passed him his glasses, then he looked him up and down. Nell was right, he had filled out. He was tall and strong-looking. Broad of chest, not overweight, but even he had to admit he looked very well.
"Son," he croaked.
Lucien reached over and offered him some water. He sipped it and grimaced.
"Sorry, dad, no whisky just yet." He sat down, "seriously though, dad, how are you?"
Thomas' speech was slurred but he managed to tell Lucien he wasn't too bad, all things considered.
"Dodgy on my feet," he huffed, "could be worse."
"Housekeeper got to you in time then."
"Seems so, Martha, her name is Martha."
"Dad …" Lucien didn't know what to say. He looked at the chart at the end of the bed, then sat down again.
"Son …" Thomas sighed, "oh bugger, boy, I made a mess of things, didn't I?"
While Lucien knew a stroke could affect a person's personality, he didn't think this was it.
"Maybe, dad, we could start again?"
"Got a family, Nell tells me."
"Here," he pulled out a photograph of Jean and the children, "can you see …"
"Well enough."
"This is them," he pointed out each and named them, "this is Jean, Jean Randall she was, from Randall's farm …" he paused expecting his father to mutter something about marrying beneath his social level, but he didn't, "… then we have Jenny, named after mum, Meg, Jean named her after the marguerites in the garden, Jack and Tommy; he was born while I was away. Mattie, here," he pointed to a girl on the other side of Jean, "she was an evacuee, her parents were killed so we adopted her."
"And how does Mrs Randall feel about you spiriting her girl away?"
"Won't speak about her, to Edith, won't answer the letters. She wanted Jean to marry Christopher Beazley, be a farmer's wife, Jean didn't want that, she wanted more from life."
Christopher Beazley … keep this to yourself, he's my patient … is not interested in women."
"Oh, that explains his lack of interest, way back then. Thank god she left before Mrs R marched her down the aisle."
"Indeed." Thomas lay back on his pillows and sighed.
"You're tired, dad, I'll come back tomorrow, see your doctor and discuss your convalescence …"
"Oh you will, will you?"
"I will."
Nell bid Thomas goodbye and offered Lucien a lift up to the house.
"Martha has everything ready for you," she smiled, "there'll be food, cold cuts she said, not knowing what time you would all arrive."
"Jean's probably an hour behind me, I dashed off the ship and left her with Matthew Lawson and his lady friend."
"Not Ridley Lawson's boy?"
"We were at school together, but he joined the ship at Port Said … he seems to be courting a Doctor Harvey, Alice is her name. We got to know her quite well, and Matthew is now an honorary uncle to the kids."
"Ridley Lawson was a wrong 'un, Lucien." She warned.
"Matthew's a copper, joining the station here, Alice is going into the path lab and will do autopsies."
"Ah, not a chip off the old block."
"Far from it."
They pulled up on the drive.
"I can't thank you enough, Miss Nell," he turned to her and lifted her hand, "you have been the best of friends to dad, and maman. I dread to think what would have happened if we hadn't written."
"I think he's ready, now, Lucien, to let go of the past."
"Let's hope so."
"Well, I'll let you get acquainted with Martha Rhodes. She's a good woman, Lucien, she'll help you and the family get settled in."
He kissed her hand, and got out of the car. This would be the first time in fifteen years he had been inside.
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"Hello?" he pushed open the door and took a tentative step inside.
"Dr Lucien?"
He nodded.
"Hello, I'm Martha Rhodes, your father's housekeeper, welcome home." She offered her hand, which he shook gently. "Your family?" she looked round him.
"Following," he hummed, "I left rather hurriedly, off the ship …"
"Of course. She smiled, "tea?"
"Now that would be lovely."
She watched him drink his tea, judged him more like his mother than his father, from the photograph on the piano, there was something about Dr Blake the younger that made her feel girlish.
"I suppose you would like to look around, I mean see how I've sorted the rooms?"
"That would be lovely," he smiled, "I don't suppose it was easy."
"Hm, well I put the children upstairs, but one of the beds means that perhaps the two older girls will have to share." She frowned.
"Ah, the pink walls," he smiled, "I expect Jenny and Mattie won't mind, until we can sort something else out."
"There are two rooms …"
"Hm, the boys like to share, Tommy, our youngest, has a habit of wandering and cuddling with his brother. It will tail off as he gets older … my old room?"
"The single on this floor?"
He nodded.
"One of the girls? I thought the guest room for you and Mrs Blake, it has a double."
"Maybe Meg, she's the younger of the girls, Jenny and Mattie are both twelve …"
"Ah, yes, Miss Clasby said you adopted an evacuee," she smiled, "that was remarkably generous of you."
"The authorities were going to send her to a children's home, Jean was having nothing of that."
"Right, doesn't sound very good."
"Jean didn't think so, either." He stood up, "I think, for now, we'll be fine with the beds like this, but I'll look into getting another couple of singles for the girls. Thank you, Mrs Rhodes …"
"Martha, even your father calls me Martha."
"… Martha, for all you have done. It can't have been easy."
She laughed softly, "well, your father is set in his ways."
He tipped his head and smiled.
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As Lucien wandered around the house, checking the rooms, shifting one bed into one room so that the boys could share, Martha followed him, to the point where it became rather unnerving. As they remade the bed she touched his hand, two or three times, he found himself pulling back. When she handed him extra towels for the bathroom, she looked deep into his eyes. 'Dear god,' he thought, 'five minutes back in Ballarat and I'm being flirted with. I need you Jean.' He swallowed.
"I don't believe you live in, Mrs Rhodes," he decided using her formal title would let her know he wasn't available.
"Er, no."
"Well, my wife will be here shortly," he stepped back, "we shall manage. Mustn't keep you from your home." He turned and started up the hall to the front door.
"But, she will be tired." She drew her brows together.
"You don't know my wife, proper whirlwind, and the children are so helpful," he held her coat for her and waited. "And they've had enough change, for now."
In the end she let him help her into her coat and pass her her handbag.
"I shall see you in the morning, Dr Blake," she practically fluttered her eyelashes.
"No rush," he hummed.
As she left he closed the door and leant against it, breathing heavily. Should he tell Jean? He rubbed his face and hoped she'd be here soon.
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As Martha slowly made her way down the drive two taxis drove up, children tumbled out and gathered round a young woman in the first car.
"Is this it, mum?"
"Yes, Jack, this is your grandfather's house."
"Wow!"
Jean smiled, Martha frowned but thought she better introduce herself.
"Mrs Blake?" she smiled tightly. "Martha Rhodes, housekeeper."
"Oh, nice to meet you, Mrs Rhodes, is my husband in the house?"
"He is, he said you would be able to manage, but I can stay … if you need me."
Jean wondered why Lucien had sent the housekeeper home when she was due to arrive, he usually insisted she had help, he must have a very good reason.
"We'll be fine," she smiled, "with the children getting into all sorts of places, best leave them to me to sort out. Thank you, anyway."
"Very well, I usually start at seven …"
"That will be perfect," Jean nodded. "Jenny, let daddy know we are here."
"Ok mum," Jenny ran to the door and knocked loudly, "dad! We're here!"
Mrs Rhodes thought they were a bit on the wild side.
The door opened and immediately Lucien was surrounded by three of his children, but as he looked at Mrs Rhodes, Jean thought he had the look of a rabbit in the headlights. She wondered what Mrs Rhodes had done to promote that.
Matthew and Alice got out of the second taxi, and Mrs Rhodes noticed two more children tumble out with them. She hadn't been notified of two other adults, it was beginning to seem a bit odd.
"Our friends, Mr Lawson and Dr Harvey," Jean smiled, "travelling on the same ship."
"We'll help you get the luggage in, Jean," Matthew called over, "then my house will be ready for me, ma said she would leave everything." He made no mention of where Dr Harvey would be and Mrs Blake didn't ask. Mrs Blake knew fine well that Dr Harvey and Mr Lawson would be living at the same address, but didn't think it was something worth mentioning."
"Matthew, Alice," Jean grinned, "thank you, for everything, come and have a cuppa before you go."
"Thanks, but, no. We've got the taxi here …"
"Dad's car is there," Lucien called from the doorway and pointed to an ancient Riley, "keys should be … " he disappeared for a few seconds, "… yep, here they are, I'll run you back."
"You sure?"
"Of course, Matthew," Jean passed Mattie a suitcase, and paid the taxis, "Bye Mrs Rhodes," she wondered why the woman was still standing there, looking at her husband as if she thought he should be the one giving orders and organising. "Lucien, a hand please."
"Of course, darling," he went to help Matthew with some suitcases, the trunks would follow, he hoped.
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Lucien showed the family round the house, indicating which rooms Mrs Rhodes had set for them.
"We've just shifted that bed," he pointed to the one he and Mrs Rhodes had moved so that Tommy would share with Jack, "maybe we could move the one from my old room into the empty one, so they can all be together."
"Need a hand," Matthew rolled up his sleeves.
"I didn't mean right now," he laughed.
"I'm here, you don't expect Jean to heave it up the stairs, do you?"
Jean folded her arms and stared at him.
"Ok," he grinned, "maybe you could, I expect you've done plenty while you've been away, but …"
"I don't mind, the children are exploring at the moment, so …" she shrugged.
"Come on then, Lawson," Lucien went into the room and started to strip the bed.
Jean turned and went to see what she had in the kitchen. In England, Lucien had made sure she had everything to make her life easier, especially as the family grew and there was no laundrette nearby, so he invested in a washing machine for her.
Everything seemed clean, the table was large enough to get the family round, the stove was old but she could work with that, gas, but at least it wasn't woodfired. The refrigerator was full; the cold cuts and salads for that evening, milk, eggs and bacon for breakfast. She found where all the crockery and cutlery was kept, but it would seem Mrs Rhodes washed by hand – she couldn't do that with five children – she wondered if they could afford a washer, having spent quite a lot of money on their journey home, and who sold them in Ballarat? She went through what she thought was the back door and found a sunroom, a couple of wicker chairs and a table with a sad looking pot plant, an African violet, sitting there. She turned back to the sink, found a jug, filled it with water and gave the plant a drink, it would soon perk up. She might use the place to start off plants, and make it a nice place to sit and relax, when she got the time.
"Jean?" Alice appeared at her elbow, "it's a lovely house."
"It is, isn't it." She agreed, "let's put the kettle on, Lucien and Matthew will need a cuppa after shifting the bed."
"Anything I can do?"
"Cups and saucers in that cupboard," Jean pointed.
"Milk jug?"
"Of course," she smiled.
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They sat in the kitchen while the children ran around, peering round doors and eventually running out into the garden.
"Jenny and Meg say they'll share the bed until we can get them one each," Lucien blew over his cup, "we could put that one in my old room. Anything you need, love?" He looked at Jean.
"I think Mrs Rhodes washes by hand," she sighed, "do you think we can afford a washing machine …"
"Sure we can," he smiled, "we'll go int town tomorrow and see where we can get one from."
"Thank you, fortunately we haven't got much to do, the laundry on the ship did most of it. If we can't I'll have to label everything and use the laundrette."
"That'll be a nuisance," he hummed, "anything else?"
"Yes," she squinted at him, "what has Mrs Rhodes done to you, you looked like you'd rather she wasn't around when we got here, and you let her go so quickly."
"Sorry, love, I think she was flirting with me …"
Jean spluttered into her tea. "Not that I don't think you are the most handsome doctor I have ever met, but really?"
He nodded, "followed me around, kept touching my hands and well," he cleared his throat, "she kind of looked into my eyes."
"Oh, well, I shall have to keep my eye on you both."
"Oh god, Jean!" he gasped, "she can't hold a candle to you."
"I think we'd better go, Alice …" Matthew grinned.
"Don't be silly," Jean scoffed, "eat with us."
"No, thank you, but we need to get sorted …" he smiled, "maybe once you're settled …?" he added hopefully.
"Anytime, Matthew, both of you are always welcome here."
They hugged at the front door, Matthew was pleased Alice seemed so easy with them; when he first met her she was not one to be touched or hugged, now she seemed so much more relaxed around people.