"I know you so little, but I have never been more certain."
She had said those words mere hours ago and he had replayed them numerous times in his mind. When he closes his eyes, he can see her there, standing before him, looking still pale from the strain of illness but alive in her eyes. It was true that he had been increasingly drawn to those eyes of late but had always found them guarded. Today he had seen shyness and excitement mixed on her beautiful face and delighted in the memory.
The soft chime of the clock on the mantelpiece alerted Patrick to the lateness of the hour so he drained his now cold cup of tea and made his way to the bathroom. Never been more certain. Months of uncertainty and pouring his soul into letters with no expectation of reply had left him weary but those four words had buoyed his heart like a lifeline he hadn't realised he needed. He felt giddy, like he wanted to jump out of his own skin with the anticipation of being on the cusp of something so great. He cautiously popped his head around his son's door, thankful to find a peacefully sleeping child. Timothy had been enthralled with the excitement of the day and even more so to spend time with his favourite Sister, even if it entailed mostly driving from one place to another. Patrick decided that over breakfast he would sit down with Timothy, painful though he anticipated a frank discussion about feelings would be, and seek approval. Timothy would always come first and in that, Patrick was sure that Shelagh would agree.
Yet another reason she was so brilliant. And to think that she was completely certain that she wanted him, it astounded him. Switching on the light in the bathroom, he felt a wave of unease wash over him, did she truly mean it? He pondered the question while coaxing the last of the toothpaste onto his toothbrush. In all the years he had known Sister Bernadette, she had been nothing if not sincere. Attacking his teeth with vigour he studied his own reflection in the mirror and raised an eyebrow in consideration. He was older than her (by a few years more than he would like to admit), he wouldn't characterise himself as handsome or dashing and he was sure that the lines on his face were multiplying when his back was turned. After rinsing his mouth out with water, he went back to his self-assessment. When had his hair got so long and unruly? And was he imagining it or had the skin on his neck started to sag. He ran a hand over the offending area and chuckled at his own vanity. While he couldn't fault her sincerity, he did question her taste.
Changing into his pyjamas and climbing into bed, Patrick found himself unable to sleep. He was consumed by thoughts of her. Not an unusual occurrence but tonight he could open those doors in his mind that he had so achingly tried to barricade while such thoughts were not sanctioned. He thought first of her smile and the little dimples that appeared on her cheeks as she did, then of her hair, uncovered to him for the first time and somehow, exactly as he imagined it would be. He thought of the way his name sounded tumbling from her lips in her lilting Scottish brogue. They had made a start today with the exchange of names and he had never thought his own name could sound so wonderful. Throughout the day she had made a point of addressing him often and he fancied that she got a thrill out of it too. He got a thrill out of imagining her introducing herself to perfect strangers as 'Shelagh Turner' and decided that such a time could not come soon enough.
Marriage? A mother for Timothy? A companion to share life's highs and lows? A lover? God how he hoped. This was territory he had firmly reprimanded himself for straying into on occasion. Lusting after a Nun was just not what one did. He couldn't deny that he wanted her, he had woken from many a dream feeling guilt through to the bottom of his toes. It wasn't fair to her, to her way of life and it had filled him with shame. As of today, she was no longer bound by her vows and he wondered how she was feeling about such a prospect. Would she be excited or apprehensive or perhaps a mixture of both? He had been so caught up in his excitement and admittedly a few insecurities that he hadn't completely appreciated the monumental changes that Shelagh would be facing. Reclaiming her name was just the start of it.
Patrick found he was gripped by a sudden desire to talk to her. He needed to know that she was alright. She had been noticeably upset after speaking with Sister Julienne but had quickly changed the subject. He knew better than to push, not that he had expected to open up about such matters in front of Timothy. After they had located a suitable lodging for her, they ate a fish supper and bid her goodnight. Their parting had been a little awkward, neither knowing the rules and she had surprised him by taking his hand and squeezing it gently while thanking him for everything. She had blushed and he had thought it quaint, though now he can't help but berate himself for not seeing it as an intimacy that she is not accustomed to. It may have been a big step for her. He wants to ask her this very second, but he at least has the wherewithal to appreciate that her new landlady would likely not take kindly to a man ringing in the middle of the night. Even less so if one was to turn up on her doorstep.
How he wished she could stay under this roof with himself and Timothy to help her through this time of change. He knows that propriety won't allow it and he's assuming that she would feel more comfortable with them, when perhaps this time alone is allowing her space to adjust. Maybe he will call around in the morning, on his way to the surgery, just to be completely certain.
Hello, thanks for reading. Any advice and reviews would be greatly appreciated. I'm not 100% sure where I am going with this, but it will be multi-chap and will move out of Patrick's head… promise.