They'd been married for two and a half years now, and still nobody knew. The day had to come, they both admitted reluctantly, but they were happy to let it come. Let someone else be responsible for spreading the news. Until then, they would continue to live together in married bliss, or as close as they could get to it.
At first they hadn't thought that it would be possible to keep it a secret - explaining her late night visits to PJ's house to Dash had been difficult, and finding an excuse for moving out had proved even tougher. But they'd managed it, and they were now settled in a modest house close enough to work, but not so close that anyone really knew them. Which was quite a mean feat in itself, considering that, in Mount Thomas, everyone knew everyone. It helped, of course, that their neighbour on one side was partially deaf, and extremely antisocial, and their neighbour on the other side was a hundred metres down the road. That was one of the greatest things about living in the country. The space.

PJ was reflecting these points one morning as he swirled the soggy cornflakes around and around in his breakfast bowl. 
"Hey, Maggie?" he called, picking up a spoon and stabbing the cornflakes with it absently.

"Yuh?" Maggie appeared, fixing the collar on her blouse as she did so. She bent down to drop a kiss on the top of PJ's head as she passed him, then grabbed the two pieces of toast as they jumped from the toaster, before they landed on the floor. They often joked about their 'evil' toaster. It was, PJ was fond of lecturing, almost as bad as the 'demonic VCR', which had chewed all but one of their favourite tapes.

Dropping one slice of toast on PJ's plate and then the other on her own, she slid gracefully into her chair with downcast eyes before looking up to meet his gaze.
"Yeah?"

"Listen, Maggie, I was thinkin'..."

"Don't try too hard, you might hurt yourself," Maggie quipped playfully, reaching out to ruffle her husband's unruly hair while her other hand sought the butter knife PJ had laid down somewhere.

PJ grinned back at her, grabbing both her hands and kissing her fingertips.
"Have I told you this morning how much I love you?" he asked, smiling.

"Twice in the bedroom and then once in the bathroom," she replied immediately, with a cheeky smile. "See, I keep count."

PJ laughed, standing and pulling her to her feet. 
"You're such an incredible person," he whispered, pulling her so close to him that their foreheads were pressed together. "I love you so much."

Maggie reached up, stroking his cheek gently, staring into his eyes, which told her more than a lifetime of words ever could.
"We should be going to work..." she murmured, but made no move to pull away. If anything, she leaned even closer in toward him as she took his hands and interwove her fingers with his.

PJ shook his head slightly, as if to say 'it doesn't matter. work can go hang', and she smiled despite herself.
He leant forward and kissed her gently on the forehead, then her cheek. She responded eagerly when his lips met hers, pulling him even closer to her.
They were both smiling as they finally pulled away, still holding hands as they stared into each other's eyes.

PJ's thumbs drew gentle circles on her palms, and Maggie dropped her gaze to watch the small gesture, fascinated.
"Maggie, I have to tell you something," PJ finally said, softly.

She looked up at him sharply, studying him seriously. 
"What's wrong?" she asked, a note of apprehension in her voice.

PJ let out a small chuckle. "Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong," he assured her, squeezing her hands. "For once, everything's right."

Maggie frowned, confused. "I don't understand."

"Maggie, you know how we both wanted to go on a honeymoon so much? But we couldn't, because we had to work?"

Maggie nodded slowly, trying to read his face, quelching any hope that rose in her. She'd learnt that in their relationship that hope generally only led to disappointment.

"Well, I've booked us a honeymoon," PJ said, one eyebrow raised as if to gauge her reaction.

"What do you mean, you've booked us a honeymoon?" Maggie asked cautiously.

PJ nodded slowly, a smile appearing on his face. 
"In three months, you and I are going on a two-week P&O cruise!"

Maggie swallowed, disbelieving. "But... how? How can we go? What about work? And how did you pay for it, PJ? You know that we've been saving up for-"

The smile on PJ's face vanished, and his happiness was replaced by a quiet anger.
"For the baby, Maggie? For the baby that's not going to happen?"

Maggie bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling dangerously close to tears. Her hand flew to her mouth.
"I'm sorry, PJ..." she said slowly, her voice unsteady.

PJ sighed, the anger vanishing and replaced by the grief they shared. A little more than a year ago they'd discovered that they'd never have children. This had hit both of them hard, but especially Maggie, and PJ had a feeling that she hadn't accepted what the doctor had told them, that they would never have a child. 
He knew that this was the only thing in life she dared to hope about.

Something she could never have.

"Hey, it's okay," he crooned softly as Maggie let out a small sob. 
He drew her into his arms, rubbing her back tenderly as he kissed her forehead. 

"We don't need kids to make our lives complete, Maggie," he tried to convince her, the same argument he'd used a thousand times, trying to convince both her and himself. 

She bit back her sobs and looked up at him tearily. 
"Yes we do, PJ. We do."

She buried her head in his chest again, sobbing - deep, wracking sobs that shook her whole body in his arms. Eventually, the sobs quietened. PJ still held her tightly.

"We have to get going," he whispered eventually, loosening his grip on her.

She sighed and pulled away, not meeting his gaze. Then she turned and pushed past him out of the room, hands in front as if she was blinded by tears and had to feel her way.

PJ sank back down in his chair when she disappeared out of his sight, feeling somewhat deflated. He'd been hoping that the news of this trip would light up her eyes the way just a smaller gift had only fourteen months ago. Fourteen months that had felt like a lifetime.
But the news of this had only led to the reopening of that painful wound. A wound that had barely begun to close up. But they had to get over it. He knew that. Maggie must know it too. They had to adjust their plans and learn to just deal with it. But it had been fourteen months, and they were no closer to having dealt with it than they had been the day they found out.

They had to do something soon, because their current existence - sorrow just hiding beneath the surface - was wearing them down. Wearing down on them as individuals, and on their marriage. A marriage which, if they didn't do something soon, would not be able to last much longer.

Love might be the strongest element of their marriage, but was it strong enough to hold it together when everything else had fallen apart?
 

She was becoming distant from him.
PJ became more and more disturbed as it became more apparent how Maggie was distancing herself from him. Had it only just begun, or had he just been blind before? If so, what had changed?
And why was Maggie acting this way? Why did she now insist that she was fine when he found her crying over a baby-store catalogue, or when she woke up in the middle of the night, screaming and sobbing hysterically after a nightmare?
He sighed, trying to push away these thoughts. These thoughts that only hurt.
"Maggie?" he called.

There was no reply. He glanced at his watch. Almost eleven thirty. Maggie would undoubtably be getting ready for bed at the moment... A creature of habit, she was.
"Maggie?" he called again.
He heard a door creak open, and then quiet footsteps along the lino floor.

"Yeah?" She appeared, towelling her hair dry and smelling faintly of roses, her skin flushed and a faint smile on her lips.

He was warmed by the obvious lift in her spirits, and held out his arms.
"C'mere, Maggie."

She climbed into his arms and he held her like he would hold a child, his arms firmly around her. She burrowed against him contentedly with a faint sigh.
There was a peaceful silence between them for a few minutes as PJ ran his right forefinger gently along her arm, back and forth, in an almost hypnotic fashion. She reached up and curled her arm around his neck, pulling his head down and kissing his forehead. The gesture, although simple, was a gesture of her intense feelings for him. Feelings that had not dimmed even after their marriage - feelings that had arisen during the first year they had been working together, and remained still.
PJ smiled, running his long, lean fingers through her hair, and then caressing her face.
She was clearly very tired, her eyelids fluttering as her body relaxed in his arms, and a sleepy smile curving her lips. A sleepy, slightly wistful smile.
"PJ?" she murmured sleepily.

"Yeah?" 
He leaned back and she shifted slightly in his arms, her eyes closing briefly before she forced them open again.

"I was thinkin'... about the cruise."

"Listen, Maggie... if you don't want to go, then -"

"No," she interrupted him, rubbing her eyes tiredly and shifting in his arms again. "I've been thinking and... you're right. We need to get on with our lives. I know that I'm not very good with dealing with some things... and this is a perfect example. But I'm willing... I'm willing to try."
She looked at him sadly, with an almost pleading expression.

PJ nodded slowly, hugging her tightly. 
"We'll get through this, Maggie," he whispered into her hair. "I promise."

"We need to, PJ," she said softly, staring straight ahead blankly. "We need to."
 

Maggie entered the office the next morning to find it a scene of utter chaos. PJ was ten minutes behind her - they never arrived at work together, because they knew it would look suspicious. 
Tom and Dash and Ben, and their newest constable, known casually as Freddo the Frog, were there, along with Chris and at least eight people that Maggie didn't recognise, male and female, all looking bruised and battered. Some of them were injured, with makeshift, blood-stained bandages wrapped around heads and hands and wrists. 
"What happened?" Maggie asked immediately, taking in the scene before her.

"It's about time you got here. You wouldn't happen to know where PJ is, would you?" Tom growled, clearly irritated by the situation he was in charge of.

Maggie shook her head, saying pointedly, "Why would I?"

Tom shook his head, throwing his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender and mumbling something about 'bloody nightmare...'
Maggie exhaled deeply, then turned to Chris, who was standing by herself, away from the crowd with a grim expression.

"Hey, Chris, what happened?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked around.

Chris shook her head angrily. "It was like a bloody rampage broke out in the pub for no reason! They've messed the whole place up, and ... and..." She faltered, turning away, then finished shortly, "It's nothing to do with me, okay Maggie? My insurance will cover it."

Maggie put her hand on Chris's arm apprehensively. "What happened, Chris?"

Chris shook her head and Maggie realised for the first time that she'd been shaken quite badly by something.
"They're all bloody fools!" Chris exploded, "They just started tearing each other apart, and then that bloody Charlie Morris, who was so drunk that he didn't know better, started threatening people with a bloody smashed beer bottle!"

"And?" Maggie prompted urgently. She needed to know.

"And?!" Chris laughed incredulously, but without mirth. "And he started bloody attacking them! And people were jumping to stop him, or to join in the fight, and Rick Marsden and his wife Cassie got in the way!"

Chris ran a hand through her curly red hair frustratedly.

"What happened to Rick and Cassie? Are they okay?" Maggie asked, filling with dread. 
The Marsdens had only arrived in Mount Thomas six months ago, with a two-month old baby girl and a barely-two year old little boy. Since she'd first met them after a break in at Rick's store, there'd been so many times when Maggie had stopped and watched them wistfully...

Chris burst into tears, but then quickly struggled to regain composure, wiping her eyes hastily - almost apologetically - and sniffing.
"They, uh..." She closed her eyes, putting her hands up to her face for a second. "They were both carted off to hospital... Rick was in critical condition, and Cassie... I don't know what happening to Cassie... she looked pretty bad..."

"They beat them up?" Maggie asked faintly, her brain not wanting to register the fact.

Chris nodded, looking as pale as Maggie felt. "Listen, Maggie... would I be able to get a drink? I don't feel so flash..."

Maggie nodded, touching Chris's shoulder sympathetically for a moment before turning.

"Hi Dash," she said, swallowing as she approached Dash, who was in the little kitchenette making tea.

Dash turned and sighed. "It's awful, isn't it?"

"What? The brawl?"

Dash shook her head, her hands trembling as she poured the tea out. "No, about Cassie. The poor woman."

"What do you mean?" Maggie felt her throat choking up.

"Didn't you hear?" Dash asked slowly, picking up the tray.

Maggie gripped the shelf beside her unconsciously, then swallowed. 
"Hear what exactly?" she asked, striving to make her tone noncomittal.

"She's dead," Dash said awkwardly.

"She's dead?" Maggie asked incredulously, blinking back tears.

"Yeah... the hospital rang about ten minutes ago. She had brain damage and internal bleeding. They couldn't do anything for her."

Maggie drew a deep, shaky breath, nodding slowly. 

"You okay, Maggie?" Dash asked, looking at her concernedly. 

"Yeah, yeah... I'm okay," Maggie said shakily. She turned abruptly and walked away from Dash, leaving her friend looking after her, puzzled.

Maggie felt strangely panicky about the news, and as she stumbled blindly towards the door to PJ's office, she tried to comprehend and label the feelings she was experiencing. Did she feel guilty, somehow? Upset, of course... This had just thrown her and she felt dazed. The first stages of shock and grief that she was going through were as if she had lost someone close to her, but she hadn't. She'd barely known Cassie Marsden - spoken to her for about twenty minutes collectively. So why was she experiencing this level of emotion? Was she somehow relating this to herself, subconsciously? Was it because she felt for those two children who would grow up without a mother because she just happened to get in the way of a drunken brawl in a pub? Was it because she had been jealous? Jealous that Cassandra Marsden had what she never could have? Was she GLAD that Cassandra Marsden was dead?
Maggie shook her head as though to clear away all these awful thoughts, and she pushed the door to PJ's office open, fumbling as she tried to find 'her' chair on the opposite side of the desk to where PJ usually sat.

"Maggie, are you okay? What's wrong?"

She jumped as she heard PJ behind her, and let out a small sob before turning away and trying fruitlessly to dry her tears before he saw them.
"Hey, Maggie..." PJ frowned as he saw her and kneeled beside her, taking her hands in his.

"I'm okay, PJ," she said shakily, trying to pull away.

"No, you're not," PJ said gently, concern evident in his voice.

"Yes, I am," Maggie said, brushing away the last tears determinedly. "I just heard about Cassie Marsden and... it just shook me up. But I'm okay."

She looked up at him, and could see that he was both puzzled and disbelieving. "Maggie..."

"I'm okay," she repeated, adding with a weak smile, "Really. You don't have to worry about me, PJ."

PJ sighed, letting go of her hand. "But I do, Maggie. I can't help it."

Maggie sighed, standing and turning. "I'd better... I'd better clean myself up," she whispered, a tremor in her voice.
She began to move away, but PJ stopped her, getting up and standing uncomfortably.

"Maggie?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" She turned to him.

He gazed at her for a moment, and then spoke slowly, as though picking his words carefully. "I think I know what's going on in your mind, Maggie. But you have to understand that this is just another case. You can't afford to get personally involved, because if you do, you'll only get hurt."

Maggie swallowed and nodded. "I know that, PJ." She paused for a moment before adding with a sad smile, "Thanks for your concern."

"Hey, what else are husbands for?" PJ teased gently, coming closer to her and brushing a golden tendril from her face.

She smiled again - that sad smile, the smile of one who has seen evil and death and has survived, but not without permanent scarring. Psychological scarring.

She reached up a hand and placed it over his hand, which was cupping her cheek. 
"We'll talk about this later, okay?"

She nodded, then turned and walked out. PJ sighed as soon as the door closed after her, shoulders sagging as he collapsed, weary, in the chair Maggie had just vacated. Where had all the happiness in their lives gone?
 

It was less than an hour later that Maggie heard that Rick Marsden was in such a critical condition that he wasn't expected to survive the night. Tom had called her and PJ - the only ones not busy getting statements from the participants and witnesses of the brawl - into his office and told them. PJ, seeing Maggie's expression when they were told, felt a strange ache inside - a familiar ache. The ache that had plagued him for months after finding out he'd never be a father.
As soon as Tom had dismissed them, Maggie was scrabbling for her car keys.

"Maggie, what are you doing?" PJ asked, grabbing her arm as she started to disappear out the door.

"I have to see him, PJ," she said, with a desperation that scared PJ.

"Who?" he asked, though he knew perfectly well.

"Rick Marsden! I have to talk to him."

She pulled out of his grip and made her way out the door and over to their patrol car, where she fumbled with the keys. They slipped out of her shaking hands and she knelt to pick them up, but PJ beat her, grabbing them.

"You have to talk to him about what, Maggie?" he asked slowly, catching her gaze and holding it.

"I just - I have to... PJ, please, just let me go," she pleaded.

PJ held her gaze for a moment longer, then bowed his head in resignation.
"Okay, but I'm coming too."

Maggie nodded gratefully as PJ unlocked the car door, not commenting on the fact that he sat in the drivers seat. She slumped down in the passenger's side, staring unseeingly out the window as she thought about those two little kids who were soon not going to have any parents at all.
 

Rick Marsden was unconscious when they arrived, alone in his hospital room. The nurse on duty told them that his sister was on the way from Sydney, and should be there soon. The two children were at home, being looked after by their neighbour.

Maggie paused at Rick Marsden's door, staring at the man's still form, almost fully swathed in bandages, his chest rising and falling only slightly, as though each breath was so shallow it would be his last.
"PJ, I... I need to talk to him alone," she said, looking at him with faint anxiety.

"Why?" PJ asked pointedly. He put his hands on her arms. "Listen, Maggie, I know what you're up to... but don't you think we should talk about it first?"

Maggie stared at him for a moment, then shook her head violently. "No. PJ, I must do this alone... We'll talk afterwards, I promise. I won't make any decisions without you."

PJ looked indecisive for a moment, and then nodded. "Just call me if you need me, okay?"

Maggie nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. Reassuring herself.
Then she turned and pushed the door to the room open, taking a deep breath before she stepped inside.

He didn't regain consciousness for another two hours. For those two hours, Maggie waited by his bedside. If staying at the bedside of a dying man she barely knew was a strange thing to do, the thought didn't occur to her. All she knew was that he had to talk to him before he slipped away.

"Cassie...?" he murmured faintly as he begun to stir.

Maggie realised with a heavy heart that she would have to be the one to tell him about his wife's death, as well as his own impending demise.
"Mr Marsden?" she asked gently.

"Cassie?" he asked as he opened his eyes, looking at her blearily.

"Sir... I'm Constable Maggie Doyle. You might remember me..."

"Where's Cassie?" Though barely conscious, the man was becoming insistent, trying to sit up but unable to move due to his injuries.

"Sir, I need to talk to you about something important..."

"Where's Cassie?!" She could hear the raw emotion in his voice now, and the apprehension that he was feeling even in his half-conscious state.

"Sir, I'm sorry to tell you that your wife didn't survive the ... the accident..." Maggie said, trying to find her usual crisp, unemotional tone, and failing.

"Oh God..." The man fell back with a moan, closing his eyes. 
Maggie noted with growing dread that he had grown deathly pale, and his breathing was becoming even shallower.

"Rick, I need you to listen to me," Maggie said, touching his arm gently but urgently.

"I'm going to die, right?" Rick Marsden asked, with a faint sound which could have been taken as either relief or fear.

Maggie dropped her gaze to the ground, studying the ugly lino floor until the image was imprinted on her brain.
"You sustained some bad injuries in the brawl..." she began.

"Am I right?!" he demanded harshly.

"Yes, sir," Maggie said quietly, still not meeting his gaze. "And that's what I need to talk to you about..."

The man let out another moan and seemed to lie very still as Maggie began to outline her suggestion. His grief at the news of his wife's death seemed to subdue him, or else he was tired after his emotional outburst, and now he lay still as death as Maggie's words imprinted on his brain. He listened, and he listened, and he thought of only this morning when he had had a family... and a life.

PJ grabbed her roughly by the arm as soon as she came out of the room, but swallowed his rage when he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh, honey, what's wrong?" he asked concernedly as he pulled her against him.

"He, uh... he said that he has to think about it."

"You asked him about adopting his kids, didn't you?" PJ asked, his anger surfacing again.

She looked up at him tearfully. "PJ, it just seems like the right thing to do by those kids --"

PJ interrupted her. "Maggie, you're not doing this because you want to help those kids, are you? You're doing it for yourself. You're trying to make a selfish act appear a selfless one! And what's more, you're not even talking to *me* about it. I'm your husband, in case you've forgotten!"

Maggie looked up at him, eyes blazing angrily even through her tears.
"PJ, I don't care what you say. I want those kids. I need them!"

"What *you* need is to just get over this, Maggie! You can't just tell a guy that he's dying and that you want to take his children away!"

"If we don't take them, who will?!" she demanded, wiping away tears roughly.

"He has a sister, Mags. Why would he want you to take these children when he has a sister who could take them? She's his *sister*! She would keep them part of the family and they'd grow up knowing their relatives, but if you took them, you'd take them away from their relatives and their background!"

Maggie stared at him for a moment, then her face crumpled and she let out a sob.
"Oh, God... What was I thinking, PJ? You're right - I can't do it... as much as I want those children to be mine."

PJ nodded, placing his hands on her shoulders supportively. "Maggie, I know this is hard. And I know you want kids, but this isn't the way."

She nodded, biting down a sob. "I know, PJ, I know."

She turned away from him, moving back to the door of the hospital room.

"Maggie?" PJ asked, puzzled.

She took a deep breath. "I have to ... to apologise to him, PJ. I have to tell him that I made a mistake..."

PJ nodded. "I'll be waiting here for you."

She flashed him a brief, sad smile before turning again and pushing the door open. Then, after a split second's hesitation, she entered.
 

Rick Marsden died at five-fifteen that afternoon. His sister had arrived at half-past two and spent the rest of her brother's life by his side, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness. When he lost consciousness for the final time and slipped away, Maggie was sitting at home, curled up in PJ's arms, grieving silently. They'd come home instead of going back to work, and they knew there would be hell to pay tomorrow, but as it was, they didn't care.
They needed to be alone together at this moment, to sit in silence, in the refuge of each other's company. 
 

Two days passed - days in which they managed to function fairly normally at work. At home things weren't so good - Maggie had been moping around the house, despite PJ's best efforts to get her to get over the whole incident. There was a double-funeral two days after their deaths, and Maggie felt compelled to attend, and she had convinced PJ to come along as moral support. It was in the little church during the funeral service that she saw Rick Marsden's sister properly for the first time, with the Marsden's two children - baby Jessica fretting on her aunt's lap, and her older brother Michael sitting beside his aunt, playing destructively with one of Jessica's rattles.
And then, as she shifted her gaze along the row of people in the front pew, she realised something. On the other side of Rick Marsden's sister was a tall man, and to the left of this tall man were four children, the oldest no older than five, and the youngest barely a year old, chewing on a chubby fist.
Maggie felt hope rise up in her throat - if Mike and Jessie's aunt already had four young children of her own...
She felt PJ nudge her sharply, as if he realised what was going in her mind and was negativing it. She sighed, and sat down next to him in a pew across the church next to PJ, watching the two small children longingly throughout the service.
 

It was now the next day, and she was still shaken by the thought. She could tell PJ was too - he'd been acting edgy around her since yesterday, as if he was finally beginning to feel the pain that she was experiencing.
She was trying to take her mind off the Marsdens by throwing herself into the cases, but it was hard to get involved to the point that would banish the family from mind while working on break-ins and speeding tickets...
She and PJ had gone out early in the morning to investigate the apparent theft of farming machinery from a nearby farm, and when they investigated they were told that a Mrs Ruth Porter was waiting for Maggie, and had been for nearly half an hour.
Hurrying inside, Maggie racked her brains about who it could be - she was sure she knew the name...
Then she caught her breath sharply when she recognised the woman. Rick Marsden's sister.

"Mrs Hasham?" Mrs Porter asked hopefully.

Maggie nodded, then shook her head quickly, and then took the woman's arm and steered her through to PJ's office. It wasn't until they were inside and the door was shut that she admitted, "Yes, I am... but PJ and I chose not to tell our collegues because we wanted continue working together." She had made a split-second decision that honesty would be the best course to take.

Mrs Ported merely nodded, a faint smile curving her lips. "That would explain it."

"...Explain what?" Maggie asked apprehensively, dropping down into PJ's chair.

"The fact that I shocked everyone when I walked in here and asked to see Mr or Mrs Hasham."

"You didn't," Maggie cried, aghast.

Mrs Ported bit her lip. "Sorry," she apologised. "I didn't mean to spill your secret."

Maggie sighed. "I guess it all had to come out some time..."

Mrs Ported was silent for a moment, a thoughtful, considering expression on her face as she surveyed Maggie and the office.
"What I came to talk to you about," she said finally, "is... well, it's about Ricky."

"Your brother..." Maggie said slowly, trying to stem all the possibilities that rose up in her mind.

Mrs Porter bit her lip before continuing cautiously, "Rick told me, before he died, what you had asked him."

Maggie let out a faint cry, turning her face away sharply.
"I'm sorry," she whispered towards the window. "I'm sorry that I even suggested that. I was just..." She let out a small, wry, apologetic chuckle. "Desperate people do desperate things."

"You're really desperate for children, aren't you?" Ruth Porter asked, looking at her shrewdly.

Maggie nodded simply.

Mrs Porter nodded slowly a few times, then dropped her gaze to the floor, considering.
"Rick told me... just before he died... that... that he wished that he knew what to do. He could understand how desperate you are... he felt so sorry for you..." she was shaking her head slightly, tears forming in her eyes. "He... I don't know if you know this, but Rick and I are - were orphans. It sounds melodramatic, huh? Well, it's not that bad... our father died when I was in my last year of high school, and then our mother two years later. Ricky and I just had each other. He... he supported both of us - he was even going to pay for my last year of Uni until I won a scholarship... What I'm trying to say is that he looked after me. Even though I was twenty, I still wasn't ready to survive as an adult in the world, despite what I told myself, and Ricky was there to help me and look after me. And so now, I feel that it's my duty to look after his children in the same way..."

Maggie swallowed, brushing away the tear which was slipping down her cheek.
"I understand that," she said, her voice sounding strangely gravelly.

"The thing is, Mrs Hasham... I already have four children of my own. Jake is four and a half, the twins are just over two, and Derek is thirteen months... I've thought long and hard about what I could do, but I realise that it would be impossible for me to care for six children all by myself. My husband works all day, and we can't afford hired help..."

Against her will, Maggie asked, "Doesn't - aren't there any relatives on Cassie's side?"

Mrs Porter rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I don't know much about Cassie's side. As far as I know, she ran away from home when she was seventeen, and hasn't look back since."

"I see..." Maggie said slowly. And she did see. If the only living relative was Ruth Porter, and Ruth Porter couldn't take care of these children and her own... 

"Mrs Hasham, I don't know if what I'm about to suggest is even fully legal, but if the alternative is a foster home with strangers or some elderly relative on Cassie's side who only takes them because they feel it's their duty... Would you consider..." she gulped, seemlingly not able to get the word out. 

Maggie inhaled sharply, staring at the woman disbelievingly for a moment.
"Are you suggesting--"

"Adoption," Ruth Porter said quickly.

"You're serious?" Maggie asked in a small voice.

A faint smile graced Mrs Porter's features briefly.
"I don't usually joke about such serious issues."

Maggie ran a hand through her hair disbelievingly. 
"This is... this is incredible," she muttered.

"Mrs Hasham...?"

"Please, call me Maggie," Maggie said quickly, looking up with a tentative smile.

"Maggie... Will you think about what I've said?"

Maggie nodded, even though she already knew what she wanted.

Mrs Porter stood, offering her hand, which Maggie shook.
"I feel like... like this is the right thing to do," she said with a sigh. "They belong here, somehow. In Mount Thomas. This is where Rick and Cassie chose for them to grow up, and I want to honour that decision. Of course, you'll need to discuss this with your husband... we'll need to see some lawyers about this, too. As I said, I don't know if you adopting them would even be legally possible, but I'd think you'd at least be able to get legal guardianship..."

Maggie nodded again, a smile breaking through her tears even as they kept falling. She brushed them away with the back of her palms and then stood, breathing deeply and staring with inexpressible thanks at the woman before her.
 

"Mummy, come see Jessie!" Mike called, his face lit up excitedly as he pulled at his mother's skirt.

Maggie allowed herself to pulled along by the little boy, noticing with an indulgent smile that he'd already ripped the knee of his new pants. Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered to patch up the holes, when he just kept remaking them.
"Look, Mummy!" he said again, grinning mischeviously as his younger sister went methodically about burying PJ in the sandpit. He ran forward to join in, picking up a bucketful of sand, which he deposited on PJ's stomach, despite his playful protests.
Maggie stood, grinning as widely as Mike as she watched her husband and two children. They'd been a family for over a year now, but this seemed to be the first time when they were a complete, happy family, Maggie and PJ finally accepted and loved by the children, especially Mike, as their parents, and Maggie and PJ now feeling that they were truly the parents of these children.
She inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh scent of the rose trellis behind her, and smiled contentedly as she watched what she laughingly referred to as her 'three children' playing together.

"Come help, Mummy!" Jessie called, a happy grin adorning her chubby, dirty face. 
Maggie approached her, brushing the unruly golden curls away from her daughter's face and smiling as she picked up a bucket.

"C'mon, let's bury Daddy!" she suggested gleefully.

Laughter echoed through the yard that afternoon, and Maggie knew for certain now that this was the way things were supposed to be. She remembered, long ago, when PJ had tried to convince her that they didn't need children to make their lives whole. She had refused to believe that, doggedly persuing her dream. And she had won. She had won a life rich in love and laughter and happiness.

- end -