"Put it away out of sight" Patrick had said.
"If only it were that simple" Shelagh thought.
Numerous times over the previous few weeks she had folded the tiny nightdress into as small a size as she could manage, hiding it under things, inside others, trying to make it completely invisible. But as soon as she had put it out of sight, a feeling of desperate longing overwhelmed her. Every tiny cross stitch which she had put into it felt like one step closer to the longed-for child who would wear it. As the nightdress took form in her hands, their baby took form in her womb. She had to go and find it, delicately unfold it and hold it. She would put it against her face, imagining smell and warmth of the newborn who should have been wearing it. A warm feeling spread through her body, from the pit of her stomach, through her chest, up to her face and down her arms. The world, for a moment, was perfect. Her blissful moment would then be disturbed by the choking thought that these sensations were nothing more than her imagination running wild, and the terrible realisation that this nightdress would never be worn by her child broke her spirit. Swallowing her emotions and blinking back tears, she would fold the nightdress minutely small again and return it to the drawer.
She knew that this behaviour could not continue. She needed to move on, accept the events which had befallen her. She needed to love the husband and step-son which God had already given her, "I have more of a family now than I ever thought possible" she thought "Some women don't even have that, I must be grateful." She wondered what Sister Julienne would suggest. She sighed at the thought of her. She had not yet told her, the one other person in the world she desperately wanted to know, about her diagnosis, and had been struggling with raising the issue with her. It then dawned on her. She could take the nightdress to Nonnatus to put in the Sister's charity box, and tell Sister Julienne. She could kill two birds with one stone. Making sure that neither Patrick nor Timothy were looking, she removed the nightdress from the drawer, wrapped it in a brown paper bag and put it into her handbag. She kissed her two boys goodbye as they left for work and school, and then set off to Nonnatus House.
She arrived at Nonnatus House and knocked on the large wooden door. Sister Monica Joan let her in before scampering off down the hall to the kitchen muttering about cake. Shelagh crept quietly towards Sister Julienne's office, trying not to be noticed by anyone else. As much as she loved the nurses and the other sisters, they were not who she wanted to see at the moment. She needed her mother. She stood outside Sister Julienne's open door for a moment, composed herself and shuffled in.
"My dear!" Sister Julienne said when she saw Shelagh. A warm glow radiated from her face at the sight of her visitor.
"Sister Monica Joan let me in." Shelagh said "I wanted to give you something, for the charity box."
Shelagh removed the paper bag from her handbag and handed it to Sister Julienne. The nun took the bag, pressed in with her fingers, then put one hand inside the bag. Shelagh's breath caught in her throat as Sister Julienne removed the nightdress and, holding it by one of the tiny shoulders, let the white material fall open. Sister Julienne looked at the nightdress and then to Shelagh. The warm expression was still on Sister Julienne's face, but Shelagh was oblivious to her reactions, she could not look at her.
"It's lovely Shelagh," Sister Julienne said, assuming it was one which Timothy had worn as a baby. "It looks like it's hardly…" It suddenly dawned on Sister Julienne and she felt the warmth and the colour drain from her face. She looked at Shelagh, whose beautiful blue eyes were sparkling with tears.
"Oh Shelagh" she gasped "It…it hasn't been worn has it?"
Shelagh could not respond verbally, all she could do was snuggle herself into Sister Julienne's habit. Sister Julienne wrapped both arms around Shelagh, resting her cheek on the side of Shelagh's head.
"Ssssssssssh" she whispered in Shelagh's ear. "I'm here, it's alright."
"I know." Shelagh whimpered.
"Do you want to talk?" Sister Julienne enquired. There was a warm and affectionate tone to her voice, as a mother would address her distraught daughter. She felt Shelagh nod her head against her chest. "Come on, sweetheart" she said, breaking the embrace and taking Shelagh's hand, leading her over to a chair at her desk. "I will get some tea and cake and then I will listen to all you have to say."
Five minutes later, Sister Julienne returned with a tray laden with a pot of tea, two cups and saucers, two tea plates and a larger plate overflowing with Mrs B.'s homemade cakes and biscuits. She poured her and Shelagh's tea and put one slice of cake on her plate, and three slices on Shelagh's. Shelagh giggled at the sight of her plate. "My name isn't Monica Joan, you know!" They sat in silence for a few moments. Sister Julienne had no intention of forcing Shelagh to talk, and Shelagh knew that she would have to speak first. Eventually, she plucked up the courage to speak.
"The nightdress has never been worn. I began making it just after we got married, naturally assuming, that marriage automatically preceded a baby. We knew straight away that we wanted to have a baby so we began…" she felt herself blush. "Well, we…"
"You didn't waste any time!" Sister Julienne finished the sentence for her. "I may be a nun, but remember I'm a midwife," she continued, seeing the look on Shelagh's face.
Shelagh smiled and continued. "We sent a pregnancy test off to The London, but it came back negative, even though I hadn't had a cycle for three months. I knew something was wrong, so I saw a friend of Patrick's at Harley Street, and he did an exploratory operation…"
"Why did you not tell me you were having surgery?" Sister Julienne interrupted,
"I didn't want you to worry about me" Shelagh replied, a wave of guilt rolling over her. "The operation showed that my bout of TB had not just affected my lungs, but had led to scarring…" She paused. Despite being a midwife for her whole adult life, she still felt uncomfortable talking about her own body to others "…down there. I won't be able to have children. So please, give the nightdress to a mother who needs it." She took a few deep breaths. "It won't be required at the Turners."
Tears were rolling down Shelagh's face. Sister Julienne reached out and held her hands, stroking the back of them with her thumbs. Sister Julienne had read about the effects of TB, and knew it could be detrimental. But, being a woman of God, she believed that miracles could happen. As she stroked Shelagh's hand she offered a silent prayer, hoping that what the young woman in front of her would not suffer the fate which she seemed convinced would occur.
"I'm scared, Sister." Shelagh said after a moment.
"Why dear?" Sister Julienne replied,
"When Dr. Turner and I married, I was so certain what my life would be, just as sure as I was when I took my vows, but now, I don't feel sure of anything, I can't picture the future at all." A wave of despair flooded across her face, the remaining sparkle left her blue eyes.
"In the past year your life has changed unrecognisably," Sister Julienne said matter-of-factually. "It's understandable that you looked for certainties."
"Perhaps I was greedy" Shelagh sighed "I was given so much and I wanted more"
"Do not begin to think of your childlessness as a punishment," Sister Julienne replied, with an almost unrecognisable sternness "I won't allow it"
"Thank you" Shelagh replied. She was relieved that someone had told her this, it had been playing greatly on her mind. She continued. "I need something to occupy my mind, I'm not used to having so much time"
"You have so many gifts Shelagh"
"Oh, I don't know about that." She felt herself blushing slightly again.
"You have energy and compassion and intelligence and a voice I have seldom heard matched" Sister Julienne replied kindly.
"I only sing in church now." Shelagh said, though as she said it, she wondered why it was the case.
"Have you thought of joining a choir? Poplar choral society has a wonderful repertoire." Sister Julienne enquired.
"I thought I heard their director had retired?" Shelagh replied, wondering where Sister Julienne was going.
"Yes, but the choir itself is still going strong, I don't doubt they would welcome you with open arms."
"I'm sure I could try," Shelagh said thoughtfully, musing over the possibility of singing again.
"You could take Timothy," Sister Julienne suggested. "He plays the piano and violin so well, perhaps, he could accompany the choir. And it could be something you do together. He is very fond of you."
Shelagh smiled. "I'll see if he wants to come. Thank you Sister."
"My pleasure, my beautiful girl." Sister Julienne replied, standing up to hug Shelagh. She wrapped her arms around her and kissed her cheek.
"Thank you," her voice broke, "Mother." Shelagh said.
"Go on, my dear." Sister Julienne said, letting go of her, "You get that voice of yours ready for rehearsals."
Shelagh kissed Sister Julienne's cheek, and the two women left the office and wandered down the corridor towards the front door of Nonnatus House. Sister Julienne waved Shelagh goodbye, before returning to her office, the revelations of the last hour mulling over in her mind.