A Night Out
This is a modern AU retelling of the Turnadette story, in four parts, centered around a "prop" that I just couldn't let go. (The "prop" does not appear until chapter three, however.) Many thanks go to ginchy-amanda and my-little-yellowbird for their encouragement, patience and valuable feedback.
Chapter 1
Shelagh Mannion sat in the late summer sunshine in the square outside St Cuthbert's Hospital. She enjoyed spending her afternoon breaks out here in the fresh air and solitude. Arriving here as a midwife six months ago, she was still struggling to settle in. Although she had quickly found her professional feet on the obstetrics ward, things had not come as easily socially with the other staff on that floor. The senior midwives, Ward Sisters Julienne and Evangelina, had been there almost their entire careers, and although Shelagh was quite experienced in her field she still felt they viewed her as one of the junior nurses. Sister Julienne was kind and an excellent midwife and while she often seemed to behave almost motherly towards her, Shelagh knew there was already much expected of the head nurse and she wouldn't have time to spare to help the new Scottish girl adjust. The other Sister, Evangelina, was fiercely capable and a force to be reckoned with yet she tempered this with a surprising tenderness for the laboring mothers when the need arose. Shelagh sensed there was much she could learn from this woman professionally, but personally she scared her to death.
The young, student nurses were stylish and witty and exuberant; next to them Shelagh assumed that her shy and somewhat foreign personality was highlighted. She held a higher position than they, essentially in between the veteran and the apprentice staff nurses. The fact that she was responsible for some of their training probably didn't help her case; they most likely saw her as a advisor rather than a friend. At times she watched daring Trixie, sophisticated Jenny and sweet Cynthia as they as they left the hospital in a flurry, in pursuit of the excitement of a London evening. Left behind in their wake, she realised she didn't necessarily fit it with that group either.
There were a few doctors on the ward; the main one seemed to practically live there, he covered so many shifts for the other two. Apparently he was a widower and didn't mind substituting for his coworkers who had to get home to their wives. Early on she had developed a professional respect for him; Dr Turner was an extremely competent obstetrician, had a good rapport with patients and held the midwives in refreshingly high esteem. He even displayed good humour and an astonishing restraint alongside Sister Evangelina; Shelagh couldn't help but be impressed by that.
Dr Turner also had a little boy, Timothy, who spent a lot of time at the hospital after school and during term holidays. When Timothy wasn't doing his homework in his father's office he ran around with his friend Jack. The two boys spent their free time playing in the square, trying to take control of the waiting area's television or charming snacks from the cafeteria ladies. Shelagh had developed a soft spot for this boy, part mischievous imp and another part wise soul. She knew his unusual combination of traits were a result of losing his mother at so young an age combined with his father's busy schedule, which left him alone to raise himself at times. She understood him because in some ways she had been him, knowing the early loss of a parent and the necessary development of independence that came with such circumstances. As she folded up the remains of her packed lunch she smiled as she also thought of their differences; she had been a shy, reserved child while Timothy was full of spunk. Looking up she was just in time to see him running up to her now.
"Nurse Mannion!" he shouted. "I've caught a caterpillar!" Timothy charged up to her bench with the bug in question cupped in his hands.
"That's wonderful!" she exclaimed.
His excitement continued, "I'm going to identify it and make sure I feed it the right leaves. If it's going to become a moth it will make a cocoon, but butterflies come from a criss-a…" he scrunched up his face, trying to remember the word.
"Chrysalis," she informed him.
"Yes! That's it! Akela said I could earn my Nature badge if everything goes well for this little chap." He settled himself next to her on the garden seat.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll earn your badge, Timothy! Now have you decided where you're going to keep him?"
"Dad has loads of junk around the flat, I'm sure I can find an old jar or something and make holes in the lid with a nail."
"Oh dear," she could well picture their cluttered flat, having observed Dr Turner's office, "for the time being, what if you used a zip-lock bag from my lunchbox? You can poke a few small holes in it for air." She rummaged through her bag until she found one that wasn't too soiled.
His eyes widened with delight. "That would be smashing! Thanks!"
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Dr Patrick Turner crossed from the hospital to the square in search of his son. As he passed through the small gate he could see Timothy was sitting with Nurse Mannion on the bench closest to the fountain. They were too involved in what looked like a serious task to notice his approach. Pausing, he took a moment to enjoy the enthusiastic mood his boy was clearly displaying. Timothy was talking animatedly and gesturing wildly while the nurse gave him her undivided attention...and his son was eating it up. Choosing to sidestep the guilt this usually brought up, he instead focused on what a gift it was for Timothy. Many of the hospital staff made an effort to keep an eye on his lad, but Nurse Mannion seemed to have forged a connection with him that was more personal and it was a bond that Tim desperately needed. As his father, he was grateful. He should probably thank her, Patrick reflected, but he wasn't on particularly familiar terms with her. Yes, they worked together quite frequently, and on those occasions she displayed excellent nursing and midwifery skills, but other than that she was quiet and kept to herself. Nevertheless, he reminded himself as he moved toward their bench, that would be the gentlemanly thing to do.
Timothy saw him first, "Dad!" he hollered, brandishing the baggie, "It's a caterpillar! I can work on my Nature badge for Cubs!" As Tim jumped up, a breeze caught the rest of the rubbish from Shelagh's lunch, blowing it towards the fountain. Patrick was quick to follow it and swipe it up before it could get much further. He dropped it in a nearby bin on his way back to their seat.
"Greetings, Doctor, and thank you," Shelagh said quietly, ducking her head as she addressed him.
"It's me who should be thanking you, Nurse. You've become a good friend to Timothy, here." He noticed her blush a bit as she shook her head and he remembered too late that she had never been one to receive compliments well. He refocused his attention on Timothy, "Let's see your newest pet, then!"
"Da-ad, it's not a pet, it's a science experiment and a Cubs project! And the first thing I've got to do is properly identify it so I know what it eats." He held up his index finger to emphasize his point.
Patrick tilted his head as he responded, "Right then, let's head to my office and you can use my computer for your research."
"Brilliant!" Tim headed off towards the gate at a trot, calling over his shoulder, "Bye, Nurse Mannion!"
"Good-bye, Timothy!" she replied with a wave.
Patrick smiled his thanks to her this time before shifting into professionalism, "I'll see you back on the ward when your break is over. I'd quite like your help explaining the risks of preeclampsia to Mrs Shepherd; oh, and Mrs Davis needs some assistance with breastfeeding, perhaps one of the younger nurses could...?"
"Of course, Doctor; I'll be there in two ticks. And Nurse Miller has just the right amount of patience to deal with Mrs Davis." Shelagh answered, feeling much more comfortable as the conversation turned to hospital matters.
He nodded his approval, as well as his farewell, then joined Timothy at the edge of the square, ruffling his son's hair before helping him and his caterpillar across the street.
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Trixie entered the hospital tearoom and found the corner table by the window knowing that Cynthia and Jenny would soon be joining her. As she waited she looked out onto the square and as usual could see Nurse Mannion on her favorite bench.
Her two colleagues approached with three teas and a packet of biscuits and as they sat down she sighed her frustration, "I simply don't know why Shelagh insists on spending her breaks out there alone every day, when I've invited her to take tea with us dozens of times!"
"Sometimes a bit of peace is necessary, especially when our work involves so much interaction with others," Cynthia offered wisely.
"And you're saying she can't have peace with us?" Trixie chirped, clearly not understanding such needs. She reached for her tea and swirled the cup, helping it to steep.
"It is disappointing," added Jenny, "I rather like to get to know the people I'm working with, it makes my shifts pass more quickly," she joked, "but more importantly I think friendship strengthens working relationships."
"Well then we'll just have to keep trying," Cynthia soothed as she opened the packet of treats, "but we must let her move at her own pace."
"You're right, of course," Trixie conceded, but not without an affectionate eye-roll in Cynthia's direction, "without you we'd be social barbarians!"
"Oh look," Jenny interjected, "Dr Turner's son has just joined her." She helped herself to a biscuit and offered the tray to her friends.
"They've developed quite the friendship," Trixie noted with a sing-song tone in her voice.
"What are you implying?" Jenny raised her eyebrows in question.
Cynthia sipped her tea before adding quietly, "I think it's sweet."
"Well I think she's sweet on the doctor…" Trixie teased, punctuating her comment with her biscuit, the suggestion in her expression obvious.
"No!" exclaimed Cynthia.
"Oh yes!" Trixie countered, "Haven't you seen the dreamy look in her eye when he's in the room? And she blushes whenever he compliments her."
"She blushes when anyone compliments her," Jenny reminded as she took another biscuit.
"Fine." Trixie relented, sweeping some stray crumbs into her napkin. "But did you know she helps him catch up on his paperwork and tidies his desk when he isn't looking?"
"And has a special interest in his little boy…" Jenny was starting to be won over.
Cynthia remained the voice of reason, "Lots of people here look out for Timothy."
"Look! Dr Turner just entered the square!" Jenny squealed and three heads snapped back to the window, their repast forgotten for the moment.
"What's he doing? Oh, picking up some litter." Cynthia noted.
"Aha!" Trixie crowed.
"What? What is it?" Her friends were at a loss.
"Her eyes were on his derriere the entire time he was retrieving that rubbish!" she triumphed.
"She wouldn't!" Cynthia was aghast while Jenny nearly choked on her tea.
"Trust me; I have excellent vision and I most certainly know what a girl's face looks like when she's admiring her man." Trixie delivered her news with authority and plenty of cheek.
And with that the three nurses dissolved completely into giggles, drawing questioning glances from the rest of the tearoom.