This was a time of day that she loved. Not even having been awake for however many hours it was now, when she heard the bells and whistles of the docks springing into life, she felt as though this was 'her' time of day. The sky that floated above her was almost royal in its nature with blues, yellows and golds intertwining with plumes of smoke as the residents of Poplar breathed soul into a new day. Cycling, however, and rapidly closing eyes were never suitable bed-fellows.

Chummy stopped on the corner of Blair Street and dismounted from her bicycle.

"Maybe walk for a while" she said under her breath. "You'll kill yourself old girl if you carry on that way".

She walked a few more paces, breathing in as much icy air that she could in the hope that the cold would inject life into her veins again when he appeared a good twenty paces in front of her. She sped up slightly although he had heard the squeak of her bicycle wheels and turned around.

"Good morning" he said as she approached.

"Hello" she replied, noting he was on his own.

Peter looked around them to see the street was deserted, leaning across to kiss her quickly on the cheek.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Perfect".

"Going home?" he asked, realising they were only streets away from Nonnatus.

She nodded.

"Shall I walk you back, or would you like a cup of tea first?" he said nodding to an all-night café over the road, even though they both knew it was actually quite a horrid place. They had experienced it once, being doled out two cups of tea and a shared and extremely greasy cooked breakfast that made them both feel slightly ill, so it may not be an encounter that either would want to repeat.

"Walk me back to Nonnatus and I'll make us tea", she said, starting to wheel her bicycle again.

He smiled in agreement and they set off walking; her hanging back slightly as he carried on his duties, checking warehouse doors and alleyways. He walked, hands clasped behind his back, in that familiar pace that he seemed to adopt when in uniform. He had gone quiet for a moment as they continued to stroll towards Nonnatus.

"Camilla, the erm...the Sergeant wants me to speak to Sister Monica Joan about yesterday. Speak to her officially".

Chummy's heart sunk. She had hoped that it would not come to this. Assaulting a Police Officer was a terrible thing; she had been there herself although for some reason better known to the particular Police Officer involved, she did not even receive a ticking off.

"You didn't press charges against me, why is Sister Monica Joan so different?" she asked as they continued to walk side by side.

He paused. That was a question he could not answer. He knew he should have done; should have arrested her for assault but whilst he had known what had physically hit him, he was not sure of the emotional impact of being run over by a speeding midwife. Something had stopped him putting it down to nothing more that an accident although it had been weeks before he could place that mysterious obstacle as love.

"I could hide the bruises" he replied, knowing she had already apologised far too many times than he had ever deemed necessary. "Frank couldn't hide that lip".

She nodded silently and somewhat sadly.

"The Inspector saw him as soon as he walked through the door of the station and well, he had no choice".

"No", she replied, quietly. "One does not suppose that he did".

They walked the last few hundred yards to Nonnatus in relatively silence, at least in words, although he had smiled and squeezed her hand as she rolled her bicycle into the shed. She was in this odd place of knowing he had to do his job yet seeing how ill Sister Monica Joan was becoming, knowing that her violence towards the officer had no intention behind it at all. It was only fear.

The kitchen was quiet although footsteps could be heard overhead as she boiled the kettle and he sat at the table. She sat with him, grateful for a moment's peace before Sister Evangelina would barrel down the stairs to bark out the days orders. She was beyond hunger and Chummy's eyes were starting to close again at the soothing presence of his thumbs sweeping back and forth over her knuckles. He seemed deep in thought again.

"I do love you know you know" Peter said, so quietly, that Camilla thought she had not heard properly. "I'm not asking you to tell me anything; I just wanted to make sure you knew".

"I do know", she replied, her voice laced with a tranquility she had not experienced in some time. For a while now he had repeatedly told her that he loved her but she still felt distinctly ill at ease to utter the phrase herself. He had been the only person in the world that had said those three words to her in all of her thirty two years and no matter how many times he said it, she still felt unworthy.

She smiled and was about to lean across the table to kiss him when they heard singing. It was quiet and in the distance.

"Who's that?" he asked, hearing the singing that seemed to pervade down the corridor from the region of the chapel.

Chummy listened for a moment.

"One would say that that was Sister Monica Joan", she replied. She had barely ever heard Sister Monica Joan sing before. Whenever she had noticed her in Chapel before she always seemed to be in own world, eyes closed, breathing in the other Sisters voices as they rose to the rooftops at Compline, her lips silent. She had taken it, that either by wilfullness or decline, the Sister simply could not or would not join them.

"Prosa In Nativitáte Dómini", he said, casually taking a sip of tea.

She looked at him curiously.

"Choir boy".

"Really?"

"Never ask Mum to show you the photograph", he replied seeing her eyes light up at the prospect. "No Camilla"

"Rotten spoilsport" she smiled before singing came closer to them and stopped as the Sister stood in the doorway.

"Good Morning!" the Sister announced. "Are you well today Constable, Nurse?"

"Yes Sister", they both spluttered slightly, not quite knowing what to expect.

"It is such a wonderful world when our blessed souls are at peace, do you not think?"

"Yes Sister" Chummy replied, now somewhat used to the variance of Sister Monica Joan's mind. She was however cautious of yesterday's events; to be seen with him in quiet presence. "Would you like some tea, Sister?"

"That would be most kind and you must tell me how your wedding plans are proceeding. Weddings are such affairs!".

Peter looked towards his fiancee as the Sister continued towards the hallway, ostensibly to collect the letters that never seemed to be addressed to her and Chummy shrugged in response.

"Is she always so...variable?"

"Sometimes" she replied. "Sometimes she is". Chummy paused. "When do you want to speak to her?"

"No time like the present, I do suppose. Can you fetch Sister Julienne?".