Shelagh had expected to be stared at, had expected whispers and rumours. After all, it wasn't very day that a nun decided to renounce her vows and accepted a marriage proposal by the local GP. It was only natural that people talked.
She just hadn't expected it to be quite so vicious.
Conversations fell quiet when she entered a room. Heads turned, eyes followed her. There were hushed comments, stifled snickers. Shelagh didn't know if she found those hardest to bear, or the people who came up to her to spew their gall straight in her face.
I was naïve, she thought as a former patient complimented her on how slim her belly still was, and again when another woman wondered out loud whether the sisters of Nonnatus would allow her to come back to work if she wished to even though she'd seduced the doctor whilst still being a nun.
"I'm not pregnant," she'd stammered, hating how her entire body flushed. She'd tried to smile. "Doctor Turner and I… nothing untoward happened, nothing of the sort."
"Of course, dearie," the former patient had said, and had given her a pitying smile and a small shake of the head.
Shelagh had gone into Patrick's office and hugged him hard, trying not to cry. They knew the truth, and that was all that mattered, wasn't it?
"I'll tell them to keep themselves to themselves," Patrick had whispered, and had planted kiss after kiss in her hair.
The nurses and nuns shut those comments down whenever they could, but there were many gossipers, and plenty of places where they could talk uninterrupted.
But no matter how rude the things people said to her, Shelagh had always believed that people did not really bear her ill will. This was a point of view she was forced to rectify one evening. She had visited Patrick and Timothy, had stayed with them till dark had fallen. Patrick had offered to drive her back to her lodgings, but Shelagh had declined; it had been a long day, and he was on call. The walk was nothing she couldn't handle, and she knew the streets of Poplar like the back of her hand.
She was halfway through a small alley when a man stepped into her way. She hadn't seen him, and her heart made a painful little jump. He was tall, and broad-shouldered.
"Excuse me," she mumbled, and tried to go past him.
"Where ya going, sweetheart?" he asked. He leaned against the wall with one arm, effectively barring her way.
She blinked. "Please let me through," she said, accent thick.
"Oi, it's the little sista!" the man said, and grinned. He missed a tooth.
He wouldn't dare touch me. No one dares touch a nurse or nun, she thought. But she wasn't wearing a uniform now, or a habit. She looked just like an ordinary woman, and everybody knew that the streets of Poplar were not safe after dark for ordinary women.
Everyone but you. You forgot. How naïve…
Shelagh turned around, determined to walk away before the man could say another word, but one of his friends had stepped into the alley and blocked her exit. Her pulse sped up.
"Told ya it was a bloody shame some of them nuns hide under so much fabric," the second man said. He laughed.
Shelagh resisted the urge to straighten her skirt, to touch her coat. What she wore was hardly risqué, but it did accentuate her figure more than the habit had ever done. What piece of clothing wouldn't?
"We gotta thank that doctor of yours for the view," the first man said.
"I have to go home," she said, and tried to duck under the man's arm. He gripped her arm with bruising force. She yelped, and stepped back.
"I wasn't done talking, sweetheart," he said, voice low. He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She slapped his hand away, anger coiling in her belly.
"Don't you dare touch me," she hissed.
"Oi, this one bites," his friend said. He laughed a rumbling laugh that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
"What will ya do about it?" the first man said. The tip of his tongue protruded from the empty space where one of his front teeth had been knocked out. "The doctor had a taste of you. He's a peoples' man, isn't he? Likes to give and share. I bet he wouldn't mind too much if my friend and I here took you. Isn't that how he got you out of that habit in the first place?" He brought his face close to hers. "Did he press you against a wall and ruck up yer skirts? Or did you undo his trousers first?"
Shelagh slapped him before she knew what she was doing. Her palm smarted, but the heat in her face burned more fiercely. She stared at her hand in horror.
"Why, yer little…" His friend yanked her head back by her hair. She screamed and gripped his hand, trying to unwind it. The first man fumbled with the buttons on her coat, tearing one off. It hit the cobbles with a metallic clank.
I'll have to sew that on again.
His rough hand groped her through her jumper The cold autumn air kissed her throat, kissed her belly through her slip as he pulled up her jumper and the blouse underneath. "No!" Shelagh hissed, and gave him a swift kick against the shins.
"You little slut!" he groaned and stepped back. Shelagh rammed her elbow in her assailant's stomach. His hand startled open, letting go of her hair. She whipped around and scratched his face. He roared and groped for her blindly. She stepped back, ducked under the other man's arm, and ran.
They came after her almost immediately, their heavy boots thundering on the slick cobbles. Shelagh shot out of the alley, almost knocking someone from their bike.
"What the…?" the woman said.
Shelagh blinked in surprise. It was Sister Evangelina.
The two men stumbled out of the alley, their faces contorted masks of fury. They stopped dead in their tracks as they took in the angry nun with the red nose on her bike. "Sista," one said, and took off his cap.
"What's going on here?" Sister Evangelina asked, her little eyes shooting from the man with the bleeding face to Shelagh who was clutching her coat closed. The wind ruffled her hair. There was nothing left of her neat French twist.
"Nuthink much," the man with the bruised shin said.
"Nothing?" Sister Evangelina stepped from her bike, threw it against a brick wall, and advanced with her hands planted on her hips. "Nothing?"
The men stepped back, looked at each other, nodded, and ran.
"I'll remember your faces!" Sister Evangelina hollered after them.
Shelagh laughed at that. The sound was throaty and empty and strange. She leaned against the wall and pressed a hand against her mouth to still the stound, but she couldn't stop. Her body shook, her hands trembled. She inhaled fast between the bouts of laughter, then laughed again till her lungs were quite empty.
Sister Evangelina pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, and still Shelagh could not stop.
"Let it all out," Sister Evangelina said, rubbing rough circles between her shoulder blades. "I always thought you'd be more of a crier than a laugher, but by all means do laugh."
Eventually the hoarse sound petered out. Shelagh wiped her eyes. She felt empty inside. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Sorry? Those men will be sorry once I find them and am done with them. I'll use a cheese slicer on their testicles."
"You can't say that, Sister," Shelagh whispered, but she felt only mildly shocked.
"You're not hurt, are you?"
Shelagh shook her head. Her scalp burned and she was probably bruised, but nothing too serious.
"Can you walk?" Sister Evangelina asked.
"I think so, yes. I'm not an invalid," Shelagh answered. I was only assaulted.
"Let me take you to your lodgings and leave you in the capable hands of Mrs Smith. She's a fine landlady if ever I knew one."
"Isn't there a patient you need to tend to?"
"Mrs Redgrave has delivered a healthy baby boy. I was on my way back to Nonnatus." They started walking. Shelagh shivered in her coat. Her hair whispered around her face.
"Do I need to use my cheese slicer on Doctor Turner, too?" Sister Evangelina suddenly asked.
"What on Earth for?" Shelagh asked.
"What man lets his fiancée walk around alone in the dark in Poplar?"
"I insisted he'd let me go home by myself, Sister. He was on call. And I didn't think… I've always been protected by my habit. Now I'm suddenly quite naked and vulnerable, and I'm not yet used to it."
"Then why don't you let your former sisters protect you?"
"How could I? Your association with me would just smear Nonnatus' name. People…" She paused to wipe away a tear. "People say horrible things about me and Doctor Turner. It can't do Nonnatus any good."
"Don't you think that you add fuel to those rumours if you avoid us? Makes people think there's a reason we don't want to see you."
"Well, don't you?" Shelagh whispered. "I've… abandoned you. I've left you because there is someone I love more."
Sister Evangelina snorted. "Don't be daft. I knew you weren't content with us. You were too young when you became a nun. I was against it from the start. I knew something like this would eventually happen. I'm just glad you got your head turned by a good man."
"He's a good man, isn't he?" Shelagh agreed, and smiled.
"Hmpf," Sister Evangelina said, suddenly looking vexed, as if Shelagh had made her say something she'd rather kept inside.
"Here we are," Shelagh said. She turned around to face Sister Evangelina. "Will you be off to Nonnatus now? I'd hate to keep you. Mrs Smith will make me a cup of tea, I'm sure of it…"
Sister Evangelina took Shelagh's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "I know I'm leaving you in capable hands. Just… come and visit us at Nonnatus again. We miss you."
"I've missed you too, Sister." Shelagh drew a little circle with her thumb on the back of Sister Evangelina's weathered hand.
"Silly girl," Sister Evangelina said, but her voice was kind. She let go of Shelagh's hand. "I need to go."
"Thank you for everything, Sister. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been there."
Sister Evangelina shuddered as she mounted her bike. "Best not think about that, and think Him upstairs for sending me to you in time."
"I will. I haven't lost my faith."
"Good." Sister Evangelina started pedalling. "Do phone that Doctor of yours and tell him I'll come after him with a cheese cutter if he ever lets you walk home alone again though!" Sister Evangelina called over her shoulder.
"I'll rephrase it for you!" Shelagh said, but smiled.
She was going to be all right.
After all, she had the best family someone could wish for: Patrick, Timothy, and the whole of Nonnatus.