The children had finally fallen into bed, exhausted from travelling and exploring their new home, now Jean and Lucien could sit down with a drink and talk about what they had to do first. Lucien passed her a whisky and sat down beside her.

"Ok, love?"

"Yes, I think so." She sipped her drink. "There is so much to think about, where do we go from here?"

"Well, first of all I have to get my licence to practice medicine as soon as possible, we still need an income. Dad will have a long convalescence ahead of him so I will ask him if he'd like me to take over, for a while, keep things going …"

"Then what?"

"See if we want to stay, or to move on. They key thing is working to keep us. We've been lucky up to know, had a good standard of living and I'd like to keep that, I expect you will too."

"Yes, but I don't want to sit around being the 'lady of the house', I'm used to working."

"Quite, and I would quite like you to carry on doing what you do, because you're good at it. I don't want you to change who you are Jean."

"But Mrs Rhodes probably does that for your father, so I won't be able to." She mused. "We can't just throw her out."

"You will still need help, in the house, though …"

"I can't see her going from a housekeeper and receptionist to a daily … I wouldn't do it." She huffed.

"No, quite." He put his arm around her. "Maybe we will have to find another surgery, or partnership."

"Do you really think she was flirting with you?"

"She made me feel very uncomfortable," he admitted.

"How old do you think she is?"

"You're asking me to guess a lady's age?"

"Go on. She won't know."

"I'd say early forties, certainly older than me."

"I'd have put her around there too," she hummed, "just the way she walked and the way she dressed."

"She said she'd be back in the morning, I told her there was no rush."

"Ah, and I suppose you told her I would do breakfast?"

"No, I just said you were a proper whirlwind, and the children are helpful." He shook his head, "do you want a lie in, in the morning?"

"I don't want her to think I'm lazy and need waiting on," she sighed, "as long as we are up, the children can run around in their nightwear until they've eaten, they usually did, at home."

"If you need to take it easy, Jean, you must say," he put his drink down and wrapped his arms round her, "please."

"I will, but if I haven't got a surgery to run, that's not likely to happen."

"Let's see how we get on for a few days, hey, I'll see how the land lies with her; I mean five lively children are a lot to take on if you aren't used to them."

"True, though I do get a lot of compliments about their manners."

"Of course you do."

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Martha Rhodes let herself into the house, as she usually did, expecting the travellers to be tired and still abed. Instead a small hurricane, aged around five years old, charged past 'flying' a wooden aircraft and making appropriate noises.

"Thomas Adam!" a voice called from the kitchen, "breakfast!"

"Yes, mummy!" he ran down, "whee!"

Mrs Rhodes shook her head and hung her coat and hat on the pegs by the door and went down to see what kind of chaos was happening in her kitchen.

What she found was Mrs Blake ruffling wild curls, putting a plate of toast on the table and passing out bacon and eggs, pancakes and fried sliced potatoes. The boy with the aircraft was sitting down next to one of the girls and digging into his breakfast with gusto.

Jean looked up and smiled, "Mrs Rhodes, good morning."

"Good morning," she looked around the table, "is the doctor not up, yet?"

"Heavens, yes," Jean gasped, "up and in the surgery, making a call … Tommy, fork … "

"Sorry, mummy," he gave a cheeky grin. Jean wondered if he'd decided Mrs Rhodes needed to be shown naughty children,

"… he's already eaten, we're early risers …"

Jenny got up and took her plate to the sink. She started to wash it.

"That's my job, miss," Mrs Rhodes almost snatched the plate off her and began to clean it.

"My children have been taught to clean up after themselves, Mrs Rhodes, that includes washing their breakfast pots," Jean raised an eyebrow. "I want them to be independent, not to grow up and expect to have staff."

"Oh …"

"Jean!" Lucien called from the study, "Jean, have you got a minute?"

"Carry on with your breakfast, children," she smiled, "I'll just be with daddy."

"Jean …" he appeared, "ah, there you are, and Mrs Rhodes. The accounts haven't been done since father went into hospital, some accounts are late." This last he addressed to Martha.

"He does his own accounts, I do the housekeeping and make and cancel appointments." She smiled sweetly, and Jean was sure she even fluttered her eyelashes, just as Lucien had said.

"Oh," he frowned, "Jean, would you be an angel. You did them for me and Tom …" he passed her several pieces of paper.

"Of course, no problem."

She took the notes and squinted at Dr Thomas' handwriting.

"Worse than mine?" he teased.

"I'll work it out," she hummed, "you lot," she turned back to the children, "can get dressed and do some more exploring, or playing while I have a look at these."

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"See what you mean," she pulled the ancient typewriter across the desk and looked for the headed paper she expected to use.

"So, I wasn't imagining it?"

"Don't think so." She sat down and wound a paper and carbon paper into the machine.

"Well, I hereby appoint you as, temporary, business manager for the practice."

"Appointment accepted, Dr Blake, now, what have you got to do?"

"Go to the Medical Board in Melbourne and get my licence."

"You do that, I'll deal with this place."

"I'll go via the bank and check that the account was wired through successfully."

He kissed the top of her head and strode out of the surgery.

Martha watched him leave the house and frowned.

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It took Jean about an hour to sort out the accounts, find the files and tidy the paperwork.

"I have to go and post these," she waved the envelopes, "anyone fancy a trip into town?"

All five children thought that would be a fun thing to do, and, as Lucien had thoughtfully left the car keys and taken a taxi, she bundled them all into the ancient car, told Mrs Rhodes she would pick up some groceries and be back later, and drove off into town, along the still familiar roads of her youth.

"Not much changes," she hummed, neatly parking the car. "Now, let's have a look at what we have here. Over there," she pointed, "is the police station, if you get lost, or lose me, you go there, and tell them who you are and what has happened." She looked at them to make sure they understood. "Now, Post Office first," she looked around, "and it hasn't moved …"

"How could a Post Office move, mummy," Jack frowned.

"They might have put it in another building, love, not actually moved it, come on," she took Tommy and Jack's hands and led them over to her first task.

"Now, the bank. Daddy was going to check the money had been transferred, then I need to find an electrical dealers – we need a washing machine."

"How does Mrs Rhodes wash grandfather's things, if she doesn't have a washer, mum?" Meg frowned.

"By hand, lovey, I found a washboard and soap, but with you lot I need a washer." She looked pointedly at her sons, they giggled.

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Jean couldn't believe that everything was going to plan, so far, but she managed to draw enough money out for her immediate needs, and she soon found a shop that sold the electrical items she required.

"Touch nothing," she warned the children, "while I see how long it would take to have what we need brought up to the house."

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Satisfied with everything she had got done, Jean loaded her groceries and the children back into the car and drove back up to the house. She had been greeted by some who thought they recognised her, then realised they were right and had short conversations, but, as she said, she had to get the children back for their lunch. She also wondered what Mrs Rhodes would have done while she was out.

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Martha Rhodes had finished cleaning up the kitchen, made herself a pot of tea and sat and thought about Dr Blake's family. Dr Blake had rarely talked about his son, save to say he was a doctor like himself but otherwise he said nothing. Her curiosity had been piqued when the letters started to arrive, and the conversations she had eavesdropped on between him and Miss Nell Clasby. In her head he was a handsome hero, and when he had arrived at the house, to look after his ailing father, he had seemed to be the person she imagined. Then, after a perfectly pleasant hour or so, re-organising the beds to his liking, how sweet of him to consider his children, most men left that to the mother, he seemed to want to be rid of her. Ah, yes, the wife. Far too confident in her opinion, not at all deferential to her husband, demanding, yes, demanding he should help with unloading the cars! And then to expect the children of a professional man be independent, do chores; no, no, no, that would not do, they should be dressed well and be expected to sit and read, perhaps some sewing for the girls, instead they were running around in their nightwear, eating in the kitchen instead of the dining room. Then there was the issue of the accounts – she was housekeeper not an accountant. When she took the post she was surprised she was expected to see to the appointments diary, but, well, Dr Blake was on his own, she could at least do that, but not the accounts, that could lead to all sorts of accusations; now this young Mrs Blake, she had worked for a living, as his business manager, it was not how she was brought up to expect people of that social level to behave. It would take some time, but she would do it, sort it out, show Dr Lucien Blake that he had married the wrong type of woman.

She set to preparing lunch and setting the table in the dining room.

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The children barrelled in with bags of groceries, even Tommy, with a bag of apples, and took everything down to the kitchen. As Jean walked in she dropped the keys on the hall table and noticed it hadn't been dusted, there was a lone dry petal from the floral arrangement still lying there, as it had been that morning. She had intended to re do it when she returned.

"Wash your hands for lunch!" she called down the hall.

"Lunch is set in the dining room, Mrs Blake," Martha drew herself up as Tommy put his bag on the table, "I shall put the groceries away." Tommy went to the sink.

"Bathroom, Master Thomas," she had at least remembered his name. He scowled.

"Tommy," he huffed, "I'm Tommy."

"We only call him Thomas when he's in trouble, or Thomas Adam if I want his attention," Jean took a parcel off Jenny. "Go wash your hands, love."

Lunch was formal, Jean looked at the table and thought it looked very nice, but usually they had a sandwich, or some leftovers from the previous evening, if there was anything left, and a piece of fruit. They tried to eat as a family in the evening.

The children tried everything, and for the most part were happy with what they had been served.

"Mummy," Tommy sighed, "can I have an apple, please?" He'd asked for them especially when they were shopping.

"Of course you can," she stood up, "I'll get you one."

In the kitchen there was no sign of the apples, or any of the fruit they had bought.

"Mrs Rhodes, where's the fruit?"

"In the fridge until it is needed."

"Oh, can you leave it in a bowl, I encourage the children to snack on fruit …"

Mrs Rhodes raised an eyebrow, Jean just took an apple out of the fridge and headed back into the dining room. "Odd woman," she muttered to herself.

Tommy bit into the apple and grinned, Jean ruffled his curls.

"Do you want us to help clear the table, mum?" Mattie pushed her plate away.

It made Jean smile to hear Mattie address her as 'mum', it had started out as a mistake, but when neither she nor Lucien had commented Mattie had relaxed and now it was more usual than 'Auntie Jean' or 'Uncle Lucien'.

"Thank you, sweetheart, that would be helpful." She started to pile up the plates.

"I'll do that," Mrs Rhodes appeared at the door.

Jean gave in, now was probably not the time to start an argument, but she didn't think they were going to get on.

"Tell you what," she looked round the table, "how about I take you up to meet your Aunt Edith, and your cousins … when you finish your apple, Tommy."

"Will she mind?" Jenny tipped her head.

"I'll give her a ring."

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Edith was delighted to hear her sister's voice over the phone.

"Oh, Jean!" she laughed, "it would be lovely to see you. The children are in school, but perhaps you'll still be here when they get back."

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Mrs Rhodes cleaned the lunch pots and tidied the dining room. There would be dinner to plan and cook, and she had better see if Dr Thomas Blake needed fresh pyjamas.

"Where's the bin?" Tommy stood behind her twirling the apple stalk.

"Where's the rest of the core, Master Thomas?"

"I eated it," he grinned.

"Nobody eats the core of an apple," she frowned.

"I did," he nodded.

"Master Thomas, has your mother not told you that lying is a mortal sin?"

Tommy thought for a moment, he knew lying was wrong, but he hadn't told a lie, and he didn't know what a mortal sin was.

"I not tell a lie," he stamped his foot.

"It's in your pocket, isn't it? You little boys are all the same," she bent down to check his pockets.

"Mrs Rhodes, what are you doing?"

"This little … he won't give me the apple core to put in the bin, I was going to look in his pockets."

"I eated it, mummy," Tommy turned and looked at his mother, this lady frightened him and he was close to tears.

"Of course you did, darling," Jean went over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"She said I telled a lie."

Jean picked him up and held him tight. "My son, as with all of my children, does not lie; he eats every part of the apple apart from the stalk, always has done. Now, I am taking the children out for the afternoon, there is rabbit in the fridge for a stew for tonight …"

"Rabbit! Rabbit!" Mrs Rhodes threw her hands up in the air, "it's a …"

"… particular family favourite," Jean stood firm, "I take it you know how to make a rabbit stew?"

"I never …"

Jean put Tommy down. "There will be short wait, children," she called through to the dining room, "while I set the rabbit going."

"Yay!"

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While Mrs Rhodes huffed and puffed, Jean jointed and seared the rabbit. She threw in sliced onions and carrots, herbs, seasoning and water. Covering the dish she put it in a slow oven, cleaned up after herself, took off her apron and folded her arms.

"That will cook itself," she dared her to argue.

"I would never serve the doctor with a rabbit stew."

"Mrs Rhodes, we have both lived through a war, we did so in a small village that relied on the support of each other to feed and clothe everyone. We ate what was available, as I assume you did, rabbit stew was often on the menu, and will continue to be so. We both have to get used to a different life, but I will say, don't ever accuse my children of lying, or lift your hand to them. Now, there is no surgery today because Dr Lucien is out of town, so, I shall leave you to the dusting, and take my children to meet more of their family. If anyone rings about appointments you can tell them surgery should be up and running from tomorrow."

"Are they not going to meet their grandfather?"

"Dr Lucien will take me to meet him in due course, when he feels he is strong enough, and children are not allowed in hospitals unless they are patients. If you go up to see him, you may pass on my regards."

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As she drove towards the farm she mused on her relationship with Martha Rhodes. Maybe she should take time to get to know the woman, what she did and how she did it, but, so far, and it had only been twenty four hours, she hadn't got a good impression. Jean knew she was independent, her parents had always muttered about it when she was a child, Lucien said he admired her independence and she was sure it was that surety that got her through the war years, without a husband but with five children to look after. She'd liked having a daily come in three times a week to help with the laundry and housework, and Adam to help with the garden, but she worked, and she wanted to work again. Maybe, as Mrs Rhodes didn't do the accounts she could at least do that, but it wouldn't be enough, not for her, especially once she got the children enrolled in schools.

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Edith was waiting at the kitchen door when the car drew up. Five children tumbled out and stood waiting for Jean to greet her sister and introduce them. There were lots of hugs and kisses and they were shown into the kitchen.

"Hope you don't mind, you being so posh, an'' all," Edith teased.

"Posh?!" Jean laughed. "Don't be silly, Edie, I'm still Jean, and we love the kitchen. You've made the house lovely," she looked around, "I remember it as being a bit …"

"… shabby? Run down? It was, but I wanted it to be a place I could be proud of, after the mistake I made." Edith filled the kettle and set it to boil. "Your house looked lovely, from the photograph."

"It needed freshening up, when we got there, and I had it redecorated, but yes, it was lovely."

"Right, you lot," Edith looked at her nieces and nephews, "how about I give you some juice and biscuits, and if you like you can play outside."

They looked at Jean.

"Of course, if you want." She looked out of the kitchen window. "I see a couple of swings, and a ball. As long as you stay just out there, you will be fine."

"Danny and Amy spend a lot of time out there," Edith set a tray for the children, "here, let's put this on the table out there, you can help yourselves."

Jean thought Edith was a lot different to what she had expected. She had a spark as well as peace about her. Even though her letters had been cheerful and positive, and the stories about her children were always happy ones, she didn't expect her to be so calm and settled.

"So, Jean, how's it being back in Ballarat?"

"Well, the house is lovely. Lucien is in Melbourne arranging to get his licence to practice medicine here, I've done some shopping and the accounts for the surgery …"

"Doesn't old Dr Blake have someone to do that for him? I imagined his housekeeper did what you did for Lucien."

"She does appointments and housework," Jean made a face, "the accounts were out of date, Thomas does his own, apparently."

"Who is his housekeeper?"

"Martha Rhodes, know her?"

"Describe her."

"About my height, early forties we guess, dark hair, hairdresser set, heavier than me, but not fat, not a cheery face …" Jean thought for a moment, she wasn't sure she had seen Mrs Rhodes smile yet, not even when they arrived, "… doesn't approve of rabbit as a suitable meal for a professional man like a doctor, so I had to put the rabbit stew in before I left."

"What's wrong with rabbit?"

Jean shrugged. "I don't know, I have never had to pay for it, I will admit, usually one of the farmers shot it and distributed it around the village in exchange for preserves or whatever we could barter with. Anyway, Mrs Rhodes, carries herself upright, she was wearing a navy blue coat, yesterday, matching hat, low heeled mary-janes …"

"I think I may have seen her in town. She never seems to be engaging in conversation with any of the other housekeepers, seems to think she's above us farmers wives, anyway. I don't think she's local."

"Better not let her know I'm a farmer's daughter," Jean gave a wry smile. "We think she's flirting with Lucien."

"What!? The boss' son?!"

Jean nodded, it seemed funny now. "It makes Lucien nervous."

"Surely he can look after himself," Edith frowned.

"Of course, he'll let her down gently, after all he is a married man."

"So, what's for you next?"

"Well, with Dr Thomas in hospital and looking at a lengthy convalescence, Lucien is thinking of running the practice for a while, he wants me to do the accounts …"

"Of course, but you did that before, anyway."

"Aha, but what do we do with Mrs Rhodes?"

"I expect you'll think of something."

"Actually, I think, maybe I should try to get to know her a bit better, it's only been a day …"

"You're not usually wrong about people, Jean, but she has just had five kiddies landed on her."

"Mm," Jean mused, "but she was warned, by Miss Clasby."

"I see."

"And Miss Nell said that it was her idea that we all stay there, I believe Dr Thomas was …"

"Reluctant?"

Jean tipped her head from side to side but neither confirmed nor denied it.

Edith told her how things had worked for her, admitted she was settled, but if she hadn't made the mistake with Daniel she might have made something of herself.

"But the farm is a good, farm, Danny and Amy are good kids, Amy's a bit of a monkey, but she's not naughty, and Daniel keeps us well."

"Maybe I should have said something, when the headboard banged the wall," Jean teased.

"Can you imagine mother's reaction?" Edith gasped, "no, I should have made him wear a condom … you got away with it."

"We always took precautions," Jean admitted, "especially before we were married."

"We are a pair, aren't we?" Edith laughed, "I'm so glad you came back, Jean, we may not have been the closest of sisters back then …"

"Maybe me moving away made us closer, weirdly."

"Will you go and see mum?"

"I am steeling myself for that." Jean admitted it wasn't something she was looking forward to. "I don't know how she'll react, above complaining that I should have married Christopher. I must, though, but I think the first visit should be me, on my own."

"I can go up with you, if you like," Edith reached across and squeezed her hand.

"No, thank you, Edith, I should stand on my own two feet."

"You've done that ever since you left."

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Lucien paid the taxi and headed into the house. The day had gone well for him, his licence approved, and he had managed to get into the hospital to see his father.

They had chatted for a while, Thomas had asked when he was going to meet his daughter in law and Lucien agreed he would take her to see him then next day.

"How would you feel about me keeping the surgery going, until we see how you are?"

"Well, son," Thomas slurred, "I suppose it might work …"

"Mind if Jean does your accounts, she did the late ones this morning?"

"Forgot about them," he grunted. "Tell her, thank you, and yes, Nell tells me she was your business manager?"

"She was, did everything for me and Tom, reception duties, accounts, tea and biscuits for the little ones and the nervous ones."

"Martha does the reception duties …"

"Yeah, I know, she any good?"

"Came from a house just outside of Ballarat, good references, I think she was surprised when I asked her to make the appointments," he licked his lips, Lucien helped him take some water, "but she does them." He frowned, Lucien took that to mean he wasn't altogether satisfied with her work.

"Nell said she was the one that decided we could stay at the house."

He nodded, "it did seem out of character for her. How is it, living there?"

"Just need to get another bed so Meg and Jenny don't have to share, but otherwise we're fine."

"Ah, hm," Thomas sighed, "going to be a lot of extra work for Martha, she sends the surgery sheets to the laundrette …"

"Jean was going to look for a washing machine, five children, surgery sheets, she says it would be too much to wash by hand and the bills …"

"Oh, I see."

"Don't worry, dad, she had one before, no laundrette close by," Lucien grinned. "Now, I shall bring her over tomorrow, and you can meet her and talk."

He left, had a short talk with his father's physician and headed home.

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"She's out," Mrs Rhodes, smiled sweetly, "she took the children to meet more family, apparently."

"Ah," he nodded, "her sister?"

"That's what she said."

"Do I smell rabbit stew?" he sniffed and smiled.

"I'm sorry, Dr Lucien, your wife insisted, I was going to do a roast for you and Mrs Blake …"

"And the children?"

"Oh, well, high tea, I thought, sandwiches, cakes …"

"We eat together, Mrs Rhodes," he drew himself up, "some days it's the only time I get to speak to my children, talk over their day. Now, it's been a while since we had rabbit stew, it wasn't on the menu on the ship … right, I'll wander up to the farm …"

"Farm?"

"Where Jean's sister lives."

"Oh."

"See you later." He left quickly.

She watched him go, annoyed that she hadn't been able to keep him there, just for a while longer.

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Lucien was relieved to get out that quickly. Why shouldn't the children eat with them, cooking two meals would make twice as much work, didn't seem sensible to him.

He strolled up the roads to the farm, wondering on what his father had intimated about Mrs Rhodes. Was she really a good housekeeper? As far as he was aware nobody had phoned to make an appointment since they had arrived; of course if everybody knew his father was in the hospital they wouldn't. He would have to get the word out that surgery was open again, maybe Miss Nell would be the one to help with that.

"Hello, who are you?" a child's voice broke his musings.

"Dr Lucien Blake," he smiled.

"Where're you goin'?" the girl grabbed the boy's arm.

"Edith Parkes' farm, know it?"

"Why?"

"Is mum ill?" the boy frowned, "she was alright this morning."

"As far as I am aware she is fine. You must be Danny, and Amy?"

"Yeah, how do you know?"

"Your mum is my wife's sister, and I believe sheis up at the farm, for a visit." He smiled, then let them lead the way.

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"Hey mum!" Danny opened the kitchen door, "we're back."

"Hello, love," Edith smiled, "good day?"

"Yeah," he hummed.

"This is your Auntie Jean," she indicated the woman sitting with her, "and I see you've met your uncle and cousins."

Lucien looked over Danny's shoulder, Tommy sitting on his hip.

"Mrs Rhodes said you were here," he stepped in and kissed Jean.

"Bet you couldn't get away fast enough," she teased.

He just gave a wry smile.

They spent a little more time at the farmhouse until Jean thought they ought to head back.

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"Mrs Rhodes didn't seem too impressed with the idea of rabbit stew," Lucien remarked, casually, "or us eating with the children."

"I know, I had to make the stew and set it going before we left." His wife huffed. "Why wouldn't the children eat with us?"

"Apparently she was going to do a high tea for them, sandwiches and cake …"

Jean turned and looked at him. He shrugged. "I told her some days it was the only time I got to speak to the kiddies; and I'm looking forward to rabbit stew, especially now I know you made it."

"She seemed unsure," Jean sighed, "so, I'm afraid I just got on with it."

"Don't worry about it. I went to see dad, on my way back," he changed the subject, "he's happy for you to do the accounts, and for me to keep the surgery going."

"I think you mean start it up, again," they were home now, the children piled out of the car, while their parents continued talking. "I haven't heard the phone ring, today, but we were shopping this morning, and at Edith's the afternoon …"

"Trying to keep out of the way?" he raised an eyebrow.

It was her turn to shrug.

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Mrs Rhodes was waiting for them, the table laid ready in the dining room, and she had boiled some potatoes.

"Dinner is a half past five," she glared at Jean then glanced at her watch.

"Oh, I am sorry, Mrs Rhodes," Jean hung her coat up, "wash your hands, you lot, we lost track of time. I haven't seen my sister for over fifteen years."

"Hm," she turned on her heel, "I boiled some potatoes, you didn't say anything about vegetables."

Jean thought it didn't take a genius to look in the fridge or vegetable basket to come up with a solution, but, there were carrots in the stew, they'd survive.

"Thank you." She went to take the stew out of the oven and test the flavour. Lucien snuck up behind her.

"Try?" she offered him the spoon.

"Mmm," he smiled, "lovely, maybe a little salt?"

"Just what I thought," she smiled and sprinkled a little salt, and some pepper for good measure.

"The table is set in the dining room," Mrs Rhodes stood at the other side of the kitchen table.

"Thank you," Jean sighed, "but, when it is just family we are fine to eat in the kitchen.

"Good heavens! Never!"

"Where we dine, Mrs Rhodes," Lucien stepped in, "is our decision. Tomorrow night we will dine in the kitchen."

Jean thought it was such a silly thing to argue over, if Mrs Rhodes insisted she, Jean, was the lady of the house then she should bow to her wishes. She sighed, she'd had less trouble settling in the village than settling here.

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"Delicious," Lucien pushed his plate away, after his second portion of the stew.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she smiled. "Children?"

"Oh mum," Meg sighed, "I'd forgotten how much I like rabbit stew, thank you."

"You're most welcome, sweetheart."

Much to everyone's relief, Mrs Rhodes had declined the invitation to eat with them, she had eaten in the kitchen, as she always did. She left after the pots had been washed, dried and put away.

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When Martha Rhodes arrived the next morning things were just has they had been the previous day, with children still in their nightclothes eating their breakfast, except the doctor was also there.

"Ah, Mrs Rhodes," he looked up, "surgery is open again, appointments can be made. My wife tells me she spoke to a few old friends yesterday and let them know we should be open for business."

"Right."

"There should be a washing machine being delivered sometime today …" Jean started .

"Washing machine?"

"Yes, it's a lot to wash by hand, for five children," Jean hummed and put a plate in the sink, Mrs Rhodes started to wash the pots, "I had one in England."

"I use the laundrette and wash small things by hand."

"Well, this should make life easier, the laundry costs would be rather high …" she passed Jack another slice of bacon.

"I shall be taking my wife …" he looked at Jean who nodded. She found it vaguely amusing that he had started to refer to her as 'my wife' in front of the housekeeper, "… to see my father this morning."

"The children?"

Against her better judgement the only thing Jean could think of was to leave them there, to play in the garden, it wouldn't be for long. Lucien had suggested taking them up to Edith, but Jean said she would have enough to do, as a farmer's wife. She didn't think Mrs Rhodes would have a lot to do apart from a little light dusting and vacuuming; she had noticed an ancient cleaner in the hall cupboard. The girls would entertain the boys for an hour or two.

"They will stay here, they can play in the garden." She turned to them, "study and surgery are out of bounds, children, or you can sort out the toys that came with you. Perhaps Mrs Rhodes can suggest a place you can keep them."

"Well, Mrs Blake, I don't know, I'm not a nanny."

"Perhaps we should have a little talk, in the study?" Jean indicated she follow her.

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Mrs Rhodes insisted she stand while Jean and she talked in the study, which made it harder for Jean to be less like a boss and more like a 'friend' was putting a little too strongly, but it was only in Jean's mind.

"I think we may have got off on the wrong foot," she smiled, "as you know I have run a business and looked after five children in my own way, which is very different to the way you work, it would seem."

"I am not a nanny," Mrs Rhodes repeated.

"I am not asking you to be a nanny," Jean sighed, "I am asking you to be, in this instance, a responsible adult and ensure my children don't go wandering off or get hurt. The girls will entertain the boys for the time I am out, the most they will require is a drink, if they are thirsty, or a piece of fruit for a snack. They have toys and books that they can sort out, perhaps some room can be made on the bookshelf in the living room …?"

"Those books are Dr Blake's," she huffed.

"Well, I am sure there are some that are not suitable for young people to read, with Jenny and Mattie's help you could perhaps sort them out and put them in the study, for now."

Mrs Rhodes harrumphed.

"Going forward, Mrs Rhodes, as you know I will manage the business until Dr Thomas is out of hospital and we know what he will be able to do, I am happy for you to organise the appointments …"

"Surely it is for Dr Blake to manage my workload?"

Jean sighed, this wasn't easy.

"What would you prefer to do, Mrs Rhodes?"

"I will discuss that with the doctor," she huffed.

Jean ignored that, Lucien would only tell her to speak to his wife about the running of the house.

"What do you do for Dr Thomas?"

Mrs Rhodes didn't like the way this young upstart referred to Dr Blake as Dr Thomas, it didn't occur to her that with two Dr Blakes in the house it was clearer who she was talking about.

"I cooked his meals, cleaned and did the laundry. If anyone called to make an appointment I put it in the surgery diary."

"If anyone called at the house in an emergency?"

"I sent them to the hospital, they have a department for that, don't they?"

"You can't send a patient away if the doctor is in. They may have to wait, or the doctor may have to ask those waiting if they wouldn't mind waiting a little longer, but you can't send a patient away." Jean frowned, "Dr Lucien would not be happy if you did that, to anyone."

"I shall discuss those duties with Dr Blake." She insisted.

"Very well, so I assume you are not prepared to keep an eye on his children while we are visiting their grandfather?"

The look on Mrs Rhodes face said it all, no. Jean thought Mrs Rhodes had just set herself on the road to dismissal.

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"Ready, Jean?" Lucien watched her come out of the study, with a less than happy look on her face.

"Let me make a phone call, Lucien, please, then … hopefully."

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She found the number she needed and dialled.

"Matthew, Jean, how are you? Settled in?"

On the other end of the line agreed that he and Alice were well and had just about sorted out the house.

"Are you busy today?"

"Nothing planned, why?"

"It's a big thing to ask, but, how would you and Dr Harvey mind keeping an eye on the children for me? Lucien wants me to meet his father."

"The housekeeper, I thought …" he frowned.

"Not available," she answered, tersely.

"I think that would be fine, your place or ours?"

"Would you mind coming down here?"

"Not at all, ten minutes?"

She looked around, Mrs Rhodes was listening.

"Lovely."

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"I have arranged for Uncle Matthew to come and keep an eye on you," she smiled at the children, who were wondering what was going on. They had noticed the hard look on their mother's face, something so rare and coming after she had been speaking to Mrs Rhodes in the study, they knew it was not them that had upset her.

"Yay!" Jack jumped up and down.

"Uncle Matthew?" she frowned. "I thought you had a sister."

"He's a family friend, came over on the same ship with Dr Harvey, I believe she will come along too." Jean swept out, "please make sure they are made to feel welcome," she called over her shoulder. "Ten minutes, Lucien."

"Right ho."

Mrs Rhodes didn't think a family friend should be given such a title. "What's his name, this Uncle?"

"Matthew Lawson," Lucien smiled, "right, children, you behave for Uncle Matthew."

"Dad," Meg took his hand, "do you think Dr Harvey would let us call her Aunt Alice?"

"Absolutely not!" Mrs Rhodes gasped, "as an adult and not related to you in any way, young lady, you will address her as Dr Harvey."

"That," Lucien glared at her then turned to Meg, "is entirely up to her, my darling, ask her."

"Really, Dr Blake," Mrs Rhodes turned to the flirting manner she usually addressed him, "that isn't really appropriate, is it? I mean, they are not family."

"Matthew Lawson is my oldest friend," he smiled, "almost like a brother. Uncle Matthew it is." Again he wondered who she thought was in charge.

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"Matthew, Alice," Jean opened the door, "thank you for this. Mrs Rhodes is not inclined to watch the children," she added in a whisper.

"Oh, well, happy to oblige," he grinned, "any trouble, I have my brand new, shiny warrant card, something about the way you spoke on the phone," he whispered back.

She grinned.

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Jean was actually glad Mrs Rhodes had refused to look after the children, she didn't think she would be kind to them, but she didn't know why. At least she would be able to speak to Lucien out of her hearing.

"Trouble, love?" he pulled out of the drive and started down the road.

"Is it me, Lucien, have I done something wrong?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Everywhere I turn I seem to annoy her; asking her to mind the children for a couple of hours, rabbit stew, eating in the kitchen, letting the children run around in their nightwear, buying a washing machine …"

"Being my wife," he teased.

"Yes, I noticed that," she laughed, "in front of her I am no longer 'Jean', I am your wife, which I love being, it has certain benefits," she winked.

"You are a wicked woman," he laughed. "But yes, I thought to remind her I am a married man. You are the 'lady of the house' surely she should take her orders from you?"

"She wants to discuss her duties with you." She sighed, "I asked what she did if a patient turned up without an appointment but an urgent problem, an emergency …"

"… and …"

"She sends them to the hospital."

"Absolutely not! No way is she doing that, Jean. If I caught her doing that it would be instant dismissal!"

"I thought as much, though I didn't say that. I said she couldn't do that if there was a doctor available, but that you would see whoever it was and ask the waiting patients to wait a little longer, if necessary."

"Just as I have always done, and Tom, he did that too." He pulled into the hospital carpark, "so, what does she do for dad?"

"Cooks, cleans, does the laundry, and if anyone rings for an appointment, puts it in the surgery diary."

"And what do you want?"

"I should like a person who is kind, smiles, will help with the housework, answer the phone and make appointments if I am out or busy, and occasionally babysit if we want to go out for the evening, for a few extra shillings."

"Like Mrs Layton, back in the village?"

"Exactly." She nodded emphatically.

"Well, if Mrs Rhodes is not inclined to take her orders from you, Jean, we shall have to let her go." He offered her his arm and they went in to see Dr Thomas.

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Thomas Blake was sitting in the chair next to his bed. Jean could see it was his right side that appeared to be affect by the stroke, his mouth drooped a little, Lucien had warned her he slurred his words, and his right hand lay limply in his lap. He wore glasses, he had been given a shave and his hair was neatly combed, but in need of a trim.

"Dad," Lucien stepped up to him, "may I introduce you to Jean, my wife?" He waved her forward.

"Huh, Jean is it?"

"Hello, Dr Blake, how lovely to meet you at last," she shook his left hand gently.

Thomas looked her up and down and liked what he saw. She was pretty, well dressed in a smart dress and jacket and matching hat. Slender, well made up and had a lovely smile that wasn't at all condescending.

"So, you've brought him back," he hummed.

"It was a joint decision," she smiled, "but yes, we were ready to come home."

"He tells me you managed his practice, over there."

"I did, and was happy to do so."

"And gave him five children?"

"Four, the fifth is adopted, an orphaned evacuee."

"He said; said you wouldn't let her go to a children's home."

"No, indeed I would not," she straightened her back, "Mattie was with us for three years of the war, if she had nowhere to go, why would I send her away?"

"Not nice places," he grumbled, "oh they keep 'em clean, feed 'em, but …"

"… they don't love them," she added.

"No, not that I'm soppy," he huffed.

"Of course not."

"So, how do you find the house?"

"It's lovely," she smiled, "we still have some unpacking to do … the children's toys and books."

"Ah," he nodded, "best put the books on the shelves in the living room, mine can go in the study …"

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter with you?" he grunted.

"Oh, Mrs Rhodes didn't think that should be done, I suggested Jenny and Mattie, the two oldest, help her sort out which books aren't suitable for young people," Jean smiled.

"Pah, fuss pot! Is she giving you trouble, Jean?"

Jean blushed, she didn't want to tell tales, she hoped she and Lucien could sort out that particular relationship.

"She's a bit old fashioned, makes your mother seem quite racy," he continued, sighing and looked up at Lucien. "Is she feeding you?"

"Er, well …" Jean stuttered.

"Didn't like the idea of rabbit stew for dinner, last night," Lucien cut in, "so Jean set it going before taking the children to meet her sister, their Aunty Edith. Makes us eat in the dining room."

"Does she eat with you?"

"No, she stayed in the kitchen," Jean shook her head, "she had the table set ready when we got in from Edith's, and from shopping in the morning. Did she eat with you, Dr Blake?"

"Call me Thomas, lass, two Dr Blakes is going to confuse us."

Lucien raised his eyebrows, this was certainly a different man to the one he remembered. Maybe there was something in a stroke changing a personality.

"No, always sat in the kitchen, I ate on my own."

"Oh," she bit her bottom lip, "lonely?"

"Come to think of it, it was. Rabbit stew you say?"

"Family favourite." She grinned.

"Lovely."

"What do you want us to do with her, dad?"

"Can you manage, Jean, without her?"

"I wouldn't mind someone three times a week, to help with the housework and laundry, that's what I had in England, it worked."

"Offer her that, if she doesn't want it, she can go."

"Dad!"

"Truthfully, son, I've been trying to find a way to get rid of her, after she sent a woman and her little lad away because they hadn't made an appointment. Boy had cut his knee, not an emergency, but …"

"She told me that was what she does, I told her she couldn't do that," Jean agreed, "we had a talk this morning. She didn't want to look after the children while I came to meet you, said she wasn't a nanny."

"So …" Thomas frowned, this wasn't good.

"We called Matthew over, and his friend, Dr Harvey. They know them from the ship."

"Well, ask her to come and see me, this afternoon, Lucien," he huffed, "and I want you to hear what I say."

"Dad?"

"Refusing to look after my grandchildren, not following requests from my daughter-in-law … she goes."

"Dad!"

"She goes, Lucien, you can't refuse to do something your employer, or his wife, tells you just because …"

"… she fancies your son?" Jean raised an eyebrow.

"Good grief!"

"Calm down, dad," Lucien touched his shoulder, "all will be peaceful and light, when you come home."

"You must need more space, open up the studio, boy," he huffed, "time to put the past behind us."

"Really, but, that was …"

"Your mother's, yes," his eyes filled with tears, "but she's not coming back, and isn't there another Genevieve in the family?"

"Our eldest, Jenny, we call her," Jean squeezed his hand.

"Well, then …" and his face told them there was no more to say on the subject. "Bring her up this afternoon, I shall speak to her." He turned to Jean, "it is good to meet you, Jean, really good."

"And I am delighted to meet you, Thomas, at last."

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"Well," Lucien dug in his pockets for his keys, "that's a turn-up. You better draft an advert for your daily help."

"I didn't think he'd do that, in fact I was prepared for us to try and resolve the situation ourselves."

"He did employ her, so really it is up to him, but …"

"He's nothing like I thought he would be."

"Well, they say that sometimes a stroke can change a person's personality, and I have seen previously sweet and kind people become aggressive, but, well …"

"Maybe it is things he has kept hidden for years."

"Maybe all that berating by Miss Nell had an effect and now he can accept it. Anyway, let's get back and relieve Matthew and Alice, I'll take Mrs Rhodes up to the hospital this afternoon, for her to receive her marching orders."

"Notice?"

"What, oh, maybe pay her to the end of the week?"

"If she'll accept it. References?"

"I'll leave that to dad, I think, maybe you could type them up for him. He won't be able to write it."

"That's fine by me, so …"

"Of course I expect you to be the business manager, again, if that's what you want," he grinned.

"If that is acceptable to you, Dr Blake, same working conditions?"

"I think so, if that is acceptable to you, Mrs Blake?"

She laughed, "well, home then, and let's open that studio."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Lucien?"

"It's been a long time, Jean …"

"I'm with you, beside you, we can do this … together." She knew it would be hard for him, but maybe Thomas was right, it was time to put the past behind them.