"So do you know what all this raging secrecy is about?" Patrick asked as he gently placed Angela on the floor of the Noakes' living room onto a blanket that had been that had been stationed tucked inside Freddie's play pen. His comrade for the evening was standing just inside the doorway shaking his head having let the pair into the house barely two minutes before.

"No" Peter replied with a brief laugh as he leant on the door frame as the little girl settled down. "Not a first clue and I daren't guess to be frank...". Actually, it was more like 'don't want to guess'.

Patrick frowned, folding his arms across himself as he had been downright suspicious ever since he heard whispers of it last week, seeing Angela pick up one of Freddie's bears and hug it to her chest. "I know it was something to do with the wedding" he began, straightening up and going to unbutton his mackintosh, recalling what transpired to be a very brief conversation that his wife deliberately cut short before he could even think. "We got that far at least..."

Peter laughed quickly. "You were lucky. All I got from Camilla was would I mind if she went to out for a few hours tonight and to make sure Fred has his antibiotics before she gets back.…" That particular task had been undertaken; the poor boy so used to it now that he just submitted to the dropper that was pushed into his mouth with barely a whimper. Peter had got it over and done with as soon as he could as the last thing he needed, knowing that they were having visitors, was to do it closer to Freddie's bedtime otherwise he knew he would have no end of trouble putting him down.

"How is his ear?" Patrick asked as he took off his coat.

"Well he's stopped looking like he's ignoring me when I speak to him and he's stopped pulling at it so I suppose that's a good sign", Peter replied with a shrug; Camilla already having explained that to him a while ago that it was a sign he was in pain and it was that that had caused her to take him to see Dr Turner in the first place; all the signs there he had picked up an infection and indeed he had.

"Sounds like he's on the mend" Patrick offered, noticing Fred appear from behind his father. "Speaking of which…." he said nodding towards the boy as Peter felt him brush past his trouser leg. He'd been sitting on the bottom stair; insistent that the only place he wanted to play for the last half an hour or so was in the hallway but he had clearly decided that he now intended to greet his guest. Tottering in in his brand new - hand sewn and rather shockingly bright red - dungarees, Freddie was entirely intent on ignoring both his father and his General Practitioner and headed towards Angela who was now chewing on the bear's foot and watching the two men tower over her as they talked.

"Come on then Freds…" Peter said, following him and lifting the boy from the back as he swung his legs over the side of the playpen. "You keep Angela company". He stood Freddie down and the pair started chattering away; or at least the boy just seemed to be talking at Angela who was babbling back at him but they were having quite the conversation it seemed.

"His speech is coming on leaps and bounds I see" Patrick offered as the two men looked over their children.

Peter nodded, smiling as Freddie began to order Angela around to play with the blocks that were in the corner of the playpen. "It was one of the things Camilla was concerned about after, you know, but no, he seems to be doing alright". What he didn't say was that Camilla had been watching the boy's developmental signs like a hawk and as she hadn't said anything to the contrary, Peter assumed that he was walking, talking, seeing and hearing as he should. Not that would have mattered though. He'd have been loved and kept at home with them regardless.

"Good" Patrick replied, pleased knowing what horrors it would seem that Freddie had entirely avoided. "She's getting bigger by the day too. I've no idea where time goes anymore. Seems like yesterday when we brought her home" he concluded wistfully, those memories still as clear as day with Shelagh laying the little one in the hastily purchased cot that stood at the bottom of their bed. Correction; still stood where they would still watch her sleep, not quite believing she was actually there and theirs.

"I'd agree with you with that", Peter responded; grateful that Freddie, and Camilla, were home for all very different reasons. "Time goes too fast. All we ever seem to do is work". He paused for a moment. "Didn't you say you were looking at opening up a Sunday surgery too?" he asked, having a blue block handed up to him by his son. "Thank you Freds", he said, smiling at him and brushing his palm affectionately over the boy's blonde hair, getting his son's newly learned phrase - 'Daddy ta too' - trilled back in return as the boy sat down again. Angela had now abandoned the damp-footed teddy bear and was chewing on a wooden block. 'She must been teething', Peter thought.

"Yes" Patrick responded having considered the idea over and over again. "It crossed my mind, but I need an evening off every so often so that one's gone on the backburner. Shelagh's not too keen. Neither's Tim actually" he conceded. 'Not too keen' was an understatement and on reflection, Patrick had decided that when it came to it, she was right. He was barely at home as it was, so bringing precious Sundays into it would now allow him, or them, a moment it seemed so the thought was firmly placed back in its box.

"You do realise we aren't going to get much of a 'night off' with those two?" Peter noted, nodding at both children.

Patrick smiled. "They stick together like glue at nursery".

Peter knew that already. Many a time he had seen them, 'sharing' toys and babbling away to each other with only the occasional crossed word and so far no fisticuffs. "They should be alright. Beer?" Peter asked, strolling away into the kitchen, stretching out his hand to take Patrick's coat with him to hang up; the blue block handed to him by his son being pushed into his trouser pocket.

"Love one. Cats away and all that" Patrick smiled, walking after him, taking one last glance at the children who were still chattering away. "Well" he realised, "while the cats are up at Nonnatus…."

"Nonnatus?" Peter replied; muffled as his head was stuck in the fridge. "Haven't they've gone to the Vicarage?" he continued, straightening up and going to fiddle in the top drawer for a bottle opener. "I'm sure I heard one of them say Tom was up in Birmingham for something or other and Trixie had the keys so they were going there instead?"

"Probably sensible!" Patrick remarked, taking the bottle that was proffered towards him. "Why there though?"

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "Two married woman and one that's about to get married? I daren't think they'd want Nuns floating around. It could be all perfectly civilised but with the amount of whispering that's been going on and the fact you thought they were at Nonnatus and I thought they were at the Vicarage…."

"Hmmmm yes…Probably why we've been dismissed too" Patrick responded, sitting down with a sigh. "Mind you would I want to be a fly on the wall at that gathering?" he asked, eyes opening wide for a moment, wondering about it for all but a millisecond. "Actually no, I don't what to know!"

Peter laughed as the two bottles clinked in toast. "You and me both!"

Just as the Police Officer sat down there was a knock on the front door and he frowned quickly. "Expecting more company?" Patrick asked.

Peter shook his head and put his beer down on the table. "Not as far as I know!" he remarked walking out of the kitchen, briefly looking over to Freddie and Angela who were still playing rather civilly; Angela happily chewing away as she watched her companion, who seemed really rather quite busily occupied in stacking block on block on block; her deep blue eyes following his every move.

Patrick heard the door open and a brief conversation and certainly more than one pair of feet walking along the hallway, wondering if it was the police officer's wife and the evening out had come to a rather drastic end. Instead, Peter arrived followed by Tom, a leather holdall slung over his shoulder that he dumped down on the floor out of the way by the door.

"You're meant to be in Birmingham!" Patrick remarked, turning around in his chair.

"I know" Tom replied, taking up a seat on the opposite side of the kitchen table as their host gestured for him to sit down. "The meeting I had for tomorrow was cancelled so I decided to come back down early. I went to the Vicarage but was turned away on the step. Your wife…," he directed to Peter, gesturing loosely, "suggested I come here. It was either sit with Sister Monica Joan or wander the dark and lonely streets otherwise…" Tom shrugged in defeat.

"What happened with her the other day?" Patrick asked, suddenly recalling the events of last Thursday week. Sister Julienne had mentioned in a roundabout way what there had been more trouble but she had been rather vague about it too. They had already had some rather serious conversations about Sister Monica Joan's care these past few months and it could well be that Sister Julienne wanted to avoid another, hence what the doctor felt was a quick glossing over of whatever the incident had been. Shelagh had had no idea and it wasn't until the vicar mentioned her, that Patrick had remembered asking his wife about it.

"She went walkabout as far as I know" Tom replied, having seen the Police cars outside Nonnatus as he walked past and the huddles of gossiping women at all the activity.

"Hmmm" Peter replied, putting an opened beer in front of the vicar. "One of the lads found her sitting on the edge of one of the dock walls; dangling her feet over, swinging her legs like a child singing something or other. If she'd toppled in or fell when she was trying to get back up…." Peter didn't need to finish the sentence. "Every time she goes off, its usually the market or the churchyard or at worst that bit of the shore where the tide never comes in, but those docks are dangerous places". There was God knows what in that water - disease, pestilence - and it was beyond cold. If she fell in...

"Dementia is a tough old beast", Patrick mused, interrupting Peter's thoughts. "I know Shelagh says they can't keep her chained up but one of these days it's going to end in disaster. They need more professional care for her. Someone who will be able to keep an eye on her day in day out".

He saw the other men nod as Peter sat down, before the latter had a sudden thought. "You can drink, can't you?" he asked Tom.

"I can" Tom replied, lifting up the bottle and taking a mouthful and relaxing as the cool liquid slithered down his throat. He needed it after that train journey. "Just not to excess to get drunk or drive other people into being drunk". Peter nodded and settled down. "One or two won't mean I have to renounce my vows quite yet" he concluded with a smile.

"Do you have any idea what this Mother's Meeting is about?" Patrick asked Tom, hearing the children giggling, or rather Angela giggling and for a second wondering what they were up to. The question was still annoying him; particularly as Peter had come up with naught.

"The wedding" Tom offered, still frustrated that she couldn't have just let him in and he could go and hide upstairs. "Something to do with the dress I think. I think Trixie's getting your missus" he said to Peter, "to make it or at least they were talking about some ideas if she goes and buys it instead. I don't think she wants to impose too much with her having Freddie to look after but I can't see her not asking".

Peter smiled and shook his head. "Well whatever it is, we'll probably find out far too late to have any say in it anyway!" He knew Camilla wouldn't or indeed couldn't say no if she was asked to help so it was almost inevitable.

The other two men laughed, still hearing Angela giggling at something on the other side of the wall in the sitting room. They both knew precisely what Peter meant though; Patrick perhaps more than Tom but as things were going he'd have plenty of time to learn!

As Angela's laughter quietened though, all of a sudden all three heard a thud and a cry...