For all my wonderful beautiful friends who have kept me sane during a long exam revision slog today
'Come on Sister. Leave your bike, I'll drive you back. I'm sure Fred will be more than happy to drive over and fix it for you.' Patrick smiled as he watched the rotund nun battle with the pedals of her worn out bicycle. Many times throughout the years he had advised the nuns to buy new ones for themselves-the nurses bikes were of far better quality and far safer being a good 10 years younger than their counterparts. But the answer was always the same-vow of poverty, money could go to better causes, the bikes were perfectly fine. Only last week Shelagh had admitted she used to pine after the nurses bikes with their far more comfortable seats and much better suspension. Her poor bottom would be raw by the end of a busy week. He had personally made a careful check of the area in question and declared it in tip top condition at the moment. He shook the memories of what that had led to on the sofa from his mind. It would not do for Sister Evangelina to have any idea of the direction his thoughts had taken.
'Thank you Doctor Turner.' Sister Evangelina smiled as he opened the passenger door for her. She slid in.
'How's young Timothy doing? I haven't seem him since my jubilee.' She asked as they pulled off. Her Sisters and she had been overjoyed when they had seen the boy walk up to her with only a stick to help him. She would never forget the look of sheer terror that had crossed over Shelagh's face when she had collapsed into sobs in the impromptu chapel they had temporarily resided in over christmas. It had been a surprise to see the woman and to hear her sing with them. But then she had begun to cry and explained how she was terrified she was going to lose her son before she ever truly had him. Sister Evangelina may not have been best pleased with the situation as a whole-still over half a year after Sister Julienne had announced Sister Bernadette's desire to leave the religious life, and a month after she and Shelagh had begun to make peace with each other-the new reality still stung slightly. She couldn't be happier for her former Sister-Shelagh was so happy with her husband, she adored her son beyond all else on earth-but that hadn't made the betrayal any easier to swallow. Ever since that fateful winter night however she had had a soft spot for the boy. No one else would have gotten away with kissing her, not even his mother.
'Very well thank you. He barely needs the stick anymore. Shelagh's been helping him a lot with his exercises. We're very proud of how he's doing.' He beamed proudly recalling the somewhat amusing positions he had found his usually composed wife and very proud son in over the past few weeks.
'As you should. Both of you. Oops.' She frowned as a rogue pinard fell out of her pocket and rolled under her seat. Leaning down she reached a hand under it sweeping to find the tool. She stopped suddenly, a look of horror crossing her face.
'Sister?' She pulled back her hand, a lacy pair of knickers dangling from the end of her fingers. Memories of a frantic encounter between house calls on a busy day in a deserted part of the dock where a car could easily conceal itself sprung to mind. He also remembered the anxious yet fruitless search for his wife's underwear that had followed.
'Oh. Uh. That's where they got to.' He blushed, grabbed them from the nuns and stuffed them into his pocket. The rest of the journey was silent. He probably wouldn't tell Shelagh about this.
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