A/N-This is just a little moment I thought of from Patrick's perspective, from back when the world was very different for him, and for then-Sister Bernadette. This is the only chapter I plan to write from Patrick's POV. Everything else will be from Shelagh's perspective. This is the same day as the first part of chapter 1.
April, 1954
The doctor's footsteps echoed on the tiles in the shadowy corridor of Nonnatus House. The light through the windows was bright, reflecting the delightfully sunny weather outside. Patrick Turner glanced at his watch as he picked up his pace. It was a good day today. The consultation with Sister Julienne had been fairly routine, and there were no more house calls to make today. He'd been especially busy of late, and it was nice to have a light work day. He would have time to check in at the surgery and make it home, hopefully with enough time to greet Timothy as he returned home from school. Tim was a bright, energetic boy, almost 7 years old and always glad to see his father, who worked long hours and sometimes had to return home after the boy was in bed. Marianne, his wife, would save a plate for him from supper and tell him about Tim's day with a mixture of enthusiasm and resignation. Theirs was a happy home, but his wife hadn't been shy about letting him know the long hours weren't easy to cope with, especially for their son.
He smiled, thinking how pleased Marianne would be to see him arrive home ahead of schedule. He could see her broad smile and lively brown eyes in his mind, and hear Tim's exclamation of surprise when he would walk in the door and see his father there waiting, for the first time in months. Maybe he would stop on the way home and pick up a treat for the boy, and flowers for his wife.
His mind full of these thoughts, his eyes on the door at the end of the corridor, he didn't notice at first the source of the clear, pure voice that now greeted his ears, humming an unfamiliar melody. It sounded like a pleasant tune, but it was the voice that struck him, enough to make him glance around, only to see the petite, briskly walking Sister Bernadette approaching from the direction of the clinical room, looking straight ahead, her blue eyes bright behind her simple round spectacles and her expression cheerful, if a bit distant. He didn't know this sister well, but he had worked with her on a few deliveries and had been impressed with her skill, intelligence, and cheerful but efficient manner. He stopped, lifting his hand in a slight wave.
"Afternoon, Sister," was all he said, and she stopped in her tracks, humming silenced as she glanced up at him, her eyes widening ever so slightly.
"Oh," she said, giving him her attention. "Greetings, Doctor. Pleasant day, isn't it?"
He smiled. "Yes, it is."
She gave a slight nod in return before continuing on her way, resuming her humming of the wistful melody as the doctor headed for the door. Nice voice, he thought again briefly as reached the door, turned the handle, and headed out into the sunny afternoon, his mind refilling with thoughts of home.