I think I may win the prize for the longest-neglected story, but anyone who's ever applied to university in England will know how UCAS takes over your life! Thanks to everyone who continued to support me despite my lack of updates since the summer :) Please do continue to review as it really does make my day and I'm feeling more than a little rusty.
(also, I know this fic is slightly off-canon now we know that Shelagh will not be returning as a nurse, but I'll continue and write some different stories about Shelagh the secretary in the xmas hols!)
Shelagh quietly let herself into the convent twenty minutes late and in a state of nervous tension. In the musty stillness of the hallway she could swear the thumping of her heart was echoing off the walls. Hanging up her coat and hat she strained to identify the voices that were carrying from the dining room. She had been working herself up into a bit of a frenzy on the short journey to work worrying how everybody would take her news. She couldn't work out if it was best to tell the nuns first or the younger midwives; each prospect seemed terrifying in their own way. Perhaps it would be best to tell Sister Julienne first, after all, she had been like a mother to Shelagh ever since her first day at the convent - had been with her both physically and spiritually through the ups and downs, the TB, the confusion, the confession.
She began to make her way towards the dining room, her professional nature not wanting her to be any later for work than she already was while all her instincts were telling her to slow down, to wait for Patrick before she said anything. How she wished Patrick could be with her now, his hand ever so tenderly on the small of her back, guiding her gently to where the others were waiting. She sighed, subconsciously drawing her finger over her lips, savouring the ghost of a kiss as she thought of her husband and how far they had come in so little time. He had given her everything, and now he had given her a child. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she pushed the dining room door open.
"Oh hello, Nurse Turner, nice of you to drop in," smirked Sister Evangelina no sooner had Shelagh popped her head round the door. "I think marriage is bringing the sloth out in you; this is the third time you've been late this week!"
Shelagh coughed nervously. "I've been up practically all night at the Harveys', Sister. Prolapsed cord."
"All right, I suppose that's fair enough," conceded the unpredictable nun, a teasing glimmer in her eye as she tutted and ambled off to the kitchen, a teetering pile of delivery packs in hand.
"She's in a funny mood this morning," Shelagh remarked, breathing a sigh of relief as she was left with only Jenny, Trixie, Chummy and Jane. She steeled herself and opened her mouth to impart her news and get it over and done with. But before she could get a word in Trixie cut in with an exasperated stage-whisper: "Come on Jane, Sister Evangelina's gone now, so spill the beans!" Jane flashed a pleading glance at Shelagh, whom she had begun to see as her most trusted confidant and adviser. Shelagh in turn raised her eyebrows quizzically at the other nurses, who had obviously been mid-way through an important conversation before Sister Evangelina interrupted.
"Ah, well, I was saying-" stammered Jane, a small smile forming on her lips as she fidgeted frantically with a button on her cardigan. "The Reverend asked me to marry him after we visited his mother's at the weekend, and I said yes." The room fell silent as four jaws dropped and the flustered medical orderly turned gradually more crimson.
Shelagh found her voice first, realising that her news could now legitimately wait. "Oh Jane, that's wonderful! I know you'll both be very happy together," she smiled, overflowing with genuine joy for her quiet friend, whom she hugged before standing back to be clear of the onslaught of excited young nurses that she knew would follow. And follow, of course, it did. In fact for the rest of the morning Nonnatus House was engulfed in a happy turmoil as elated nuns and midwives clamoured round poor Jane, who was beginning to wish she had kept the whole thing a secret and just eloped instead. Shelagh, watching quietly from her post by the telephone, could most certainly empathise.
Observing a blushing (and increasingly exhausted) Jane having her ring flapped over and question after probing question asked of her, Shelagh could not help but spend a delightful few moments remembering her own engagement; she did not, however, look back so fondly at the fuss and flurry the development had caused at the convent. It was a well known fact that Shelagh did not like to be of any bother to anyone, so when the Nonnatuns' world stopped to take in her engagement it had caused her more than a little distress to add to the mêlée of emotions she was already feeling. Perhaps that was why she was terrified at the idea of breaking the news about her pregnancy, she thought: there was no doubt about the fact it would cause an absolute uproar and, if truth be told, she could not cope with all the attention.
Being on call by the telephone gave Shelagh some space to let all these thoughts run through her head and the phone did not ring once, a fluke of nature if ever there was one. So Shelagh sat crocheting agitatedly for hours, every so often dropping a stitch as her tired mind wandered. She returned home from her morning shift and immediately sank onto the sofa with a sob of sheer exhaustion. When Patrick came home half an hour later expecting to sit down to a lovingly prepared lunch he found his wife unravelling a rather holey woollen object, an expression of abject dismay clouding her pretty features.
Trying not to laugh he kissed her affectionately on the forehead and sat down beside her. "What are you doing?" he asked after a minute.
"Unravelling the most appalling piece of crocheting I have ever done," came the wry reply.
"I see," Patrick smirked. He studied Shelagh's face for a few moments. "So did you tell Nonnatus?"
Shelagh gave a small sigh and turned to look her husband in the eye. He looked so adorably excited, his twinkling eyes betraying a childlike anticipation that was so endearing Shelagh inadvertently raised her hand to cup his cheek. His hand immediately joined hers, caressing it with infinite patience as her brow furrowed apologetically.
"Ah no," she began, "because you see there was a wee disruption to our plan. First think this morning Jane announced she's just got engaged to the Reverend Applebee-Thornton."
"Oh, well I never!" smiled Patrick. "There's a turnout for the books. I bet that caused a bit of a flurry." Shelagh raised her eyebrows and gave a small laugh.
"Well, quite. Poor Jane looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her up. With Trixie Franklin in the picture happy news of an engagement cannot come without a drama of epic proportions."
"So speaks the voice of experience," chuckled Patrick, grazing his hand across his wife's chin. "And you didn't want to steal Jane's thunder I suppose?" Shelagh shivered and struggled to formulate words as the back of his hand traced down her neck.
"Something like that," she smiled, meekly, letting her eyelids flutter shut.
"You know, you're too nice for your own good sometimes." Before she could protest Patrick pulled her in and kissed her lingeringly on the lips. "But we must tell everyone sooner or later - I'm not sure how long Timothy can keep the news a secret." He kissed her again, more passionately this time; Shelagh soon felt her worries ebb away as love and longing took over, and she kissed him back before realising her lunch break was probably nearly over.
"Yes, you're absolutely right," she managed to murmur before pulling away and hauling her husband to his feet. "But now I have some house calls to attend, and there is a heap of paperwork on the kitchen table which I do believe is yours and outstanding."
"Yes dear," Patrick grinned with a playful tug of the forelock. Before Shelagh had a chance to move he placed his hand at the back of her neck again, but this time Shelagh placed a finger to his lips and smirked.
"I'm sorry darling, but I really cannot be late again, Sister Evangelina seems to be getting all sorts of ideas." Patrick responded with a wicked grin and she could not help but laugh. He was the liveliest and happiest she had ever seen him, still riding on the wave of elation that came with finding out his miraculous Shelagh was carrying his child. His raw excitement could not fail to infect her with a tentative confidence, something she had certainly lacked that morning.
"We will tell everyone tomorrow after clinic, I promise," she added. "But I cannot do it on my own."
Patrick gazed at her intently, taking her hands, understanding completely how massive this step was for his wife, wordlessly letting her know that he would never leave her side as their journey continued. "I love you Shelagh Turner," he breathed, "and we'll do it together."
Please review if you have the time :)
