Summer approached. The weather became warmer, the days grew longer, and Shelagh began to blossom. She relished her work, the times she spent with the other nurses, directing Poplar Choral Society, and most of all, her family. She loved her boys more than she could possibly describe. The pain of her diagnosis became easier to bear as she accepted that God had already given her so much. The pain did occasionally raise its ugly head when she was tired or alone, but she learned to deal with things. Telling her friends and Sister Julienne in particular, had greatly helped; she knew she always had someone who loved her to talk to.
Shelagh had been looking forward to Timothy finishing school for the summer more than anything. On the days when she was not working, they spent time together. They went for long walks; baked biscuits and cakes; played games; went shopping, which was much to Timothy's annoyance; played music and sang together and spent many hours just talking. She cherished every hour she spent with him. And when Patrick came home in the evening, her world was complete. God had given her the gift of love, and she knew her purpose in life was to share it with Patrick and Timothy.
September came and the Turner's busy life continued. Timothy had passed his 11-plus and had won a place at Grammar School. On his first day Patrick and Shelagh had wanted to drive him there, but Timothy was having none of it, and insisted on getting the bus.
"My name's not Shelagh, I can get on the right bus!" he protested. Eventually they agreed, as long as they could wave him off from the bus stop.
"Alright," Timothy said after some deliberation, "but only if you are hidden behind the fence!"
Shelagh shed a tear as she and Patrick watched Timothy, from behind the fence, get onto the bus. He looked much older than his eleven years, in his new blazer and cap. Patrick saw her and put a gentle arm round her. She snuggled into him.
"Our little boy is growing up so fast." Shelagh whimpered, trying to hold back further tears.
"I know, our little man." Patrick replied.
Autumn soon turned to winter, bringing snow, ice and freezing smogs to the East End. Winter was the busiest time for the nurses and doctors, with winter ailments, and injuries resulting from trips and slips, adding to their already heavy workloads. Both Patrick and Shelagh found themselves working longer into the evenings, spending less and less time with each other and Timothy. Poplar Choral Society were preparing for two concerts, Handel's Messiah in early December, and carols on Christmas Eve, which was taking up ever more of Shelagh's precious time. Their family time was further decreased by the increased amount of homework which Timothy now received. Whereas he used to do his homework in the kitchen, he now would hide himself away in his room, only appearing when he was hungry or thirsty. Shelagh knew that he wanted to do well at school, and she was so proud of him, but she missed their chats over tea and biscuits in the afternoon.
As December dawned, Shelagh began looking forward to her first Christmas with her new family. Last year, she had decided, did not count, as she was not yet officially a Turner. Timothy finished school the Friday before Christmas and had returned home slightly later than usual, looking rather sheepish, before dashing straight up the stairs to his room. Shelagh had heard sounds of drawers and cupboards being opened and shut, but did not question him when he came down five minutes later. She just hugged him.
Patrick was off work the next day, so the three of them stayed at home and decorated the house. Fred brought round a Christmas tree first thing in the morning, "I won't ask where he got it from!" Shelagh giggled, which they decorated with ribbons and coloured balls. After lunch, the three of them stayed in the kitchen together. Patrick and Timothy made enough paper chains to encircle the house several times, and Shelagh made mince pies and jam tarts, several of which disappeared from the cooling rack while she was not looking. By the end of the day, the Turner house was filled with festive cheer and familial warmth which had been lacking recently in their busy lives. Curled up on the sofa that evening, Patrick on the right, she on the left and Timothy in the middle, a crackling fire and Christmas just round the corner, she could not describe how blessed she was.
The days leading up to Christmas were as busy as ever. The Sisters tried to plan their work so that Christmas Day was as free as possible, with only emergencies and those needing daily care being treated. The latter looked as though it could be finished by 10:30, and there were only a few women who could possibly go into labour that day; Cynthia drew the short straw, so she was on call. Thankfully, the babies of Poplar stayed still that Christmas. In light of this, Sister Julienne had decided to invite everyone round to Nonnatus House for Christmas lunch. "The whole family round for Christmas," she had said gleefully.
Shelagh initially wanted to spend her first family Christmas just with Patrick and Timothy, but Patrick talked her round.
"The nurses and the Sisters are our family too," he said "and playing party games with just three people is nowhere near as fun! We'll open presents and have Christmas breakfast, just the three of us together, then we'll go to Nonnatus and join the fun!"
"Are you sure that is alright?" Shelagh asked.
"Of course it is" Patrick said. He paused. "It's been many years since Tim and I had a real Christmas, and the reason that we are having one now is because of the people of Nonnatus House. Without them, we would not have been brought together. We would not be standing here having this conversation." He kissed her forehead "I cannot think of another group of people who I want to spread Christmas with. Also," he paused and smirked "I don't fancy saying "no" to Sister Julienne, I don't think she would forgive either of us."
Shelagh was about to make a comment about how Sister Julienne would always forgive, but did not, as although she would not admit it, she agreed with Patrick.
"I'll tell her to expect three Turners for Christmas lunch then."
Shelagh was wide awake first thing on Christmas morning. She had hardly had any sleep, having returned late from Midnight Mass, still buzzing from the carol concert earlier that evening. She could not wait to see the look on Timothy's face when he opened his presents. She had spent the previous morning lovingly wrapping them whilst he was out having snowball fights with the other children in the street, attaching labels and coloured bows with delicate care. She was not sure how long she lay there for, but soon there was a knock on the bedroom door.
"Merry Christmas Mum and Dad" came Timothy's voice.
He wandered in, with two untidily wrapped presents in his hand. Patrick, who had been fast asleep prior to Timothy's arrival, was now wide awake. Shelagh looked lovingly at her son. "That's what he must have been stashing away on the last day of school," she thought.
"Merry Christmas son," Patrick said ruffling Timothy's hair.
"Yes Merry Christmas" Shelagh said, gesticulating to him to come round to her side of the bed. Timothy came round and Shelagh pulled him towards her, and hugged him. Once she let him go, Timothy said,
"Mum this is yours," handing her the smallest of the two presents. "And Dad this is yours."
Timothy stood at the end of the bed, waiting for them to open their gifts. Patrick and Shelagh looked at each other, slightly suspiciously. They did not say anything, but they knew that both were asking "Did you know about this?" And they knew the answer was "No."
Shelagh cracked first and tore the paper from her present. Inside was a long silk scarf, in a mixture of purples and blues. The material was so fine against her hands, it was beautiful. She looked at Timothy, astounded.
"It's beautiful, thank you so much."
Timothy smiled, and then looked expectantly at his father. Patrick began opening his present. A thick-knit, grey-merle sweater emerged from the wrapping paper. The wool was softer than any he had ever felt.
"Are you trying to influence our dress sense Tim?" Patrick said with a grin on his face. Seeing the look on his sons face, he continued "I love it. It'll keep me warm when I'm out on call in all weathers."
"Now Timothy, if you go downstairs, there might be something for you," Shelagh said. "We'll be there in a minute."
Timothy disappeared as fast as his legs could carry him. When he was out of earshot, Patrick said.
"How did he get the money for these? They would have cost him far more than his pocket money would buy."
"They're homemade," Shelagh said, "There are no labels on them." She suspected someone at Nonnatus House made them. "It doesn't matter where they came from, I'm just so happy to receive a present from my son. Speaking of whom, we better go downstairs, Merry Christmas, darling." She planted a kiss on his lips.
"And to you too, gorgeous!" Patrick replied, his voice muffled slightly by the contact of his wife's lips.
Ten minutes later, the living room was covered in discarded wrapping paper, and Timothy was sat in the middle of the floor surrounded by his presents. New toys, books, sweets and clothes covered the floor. He grinned from ear to ear. Timothy's glee sent a wave of joy through Shelagh's heart.
There were two unwrapped presents remaining under the tree after Timothy had opened his. Patrick bought Shelagh new lingerie, which she had opened, blushed at the sight of and then hid back in the wrappings. There was a bra, panties, suspenders and stockings, all in exquisite black silk and lace. They were beautiful, and exactly the right size, but they were a lot more risqué than what she usually wore. He growled quietly in her ear as she hid them away. She blushed scarlet. She bought him a cigarette case, with his initials engraved on it. "Since my name is on it, does that mean that they are my cigarettes?" he asked playfully, knowing her partiality to one of his Henley's. She grinned back at him.
After clearing up the mess which Timothy had made in the living room, Patrick and Shelagh set about making cooked breakfast. Three plates of sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, beans, black pudding and fried bread were soon demolished, washed down with mugs of tea. A sense of contentment radiated from the three Turners.
"Delicious!" said Timothy.
"I'm full already," Shelagh said, tracing circles on her stomach, "I have no idea how I'm going to fit Christmas lunch in here as well!"
"You will have to," Timothy replied "Otherwise Sister Julienne will be upset!"
"We better start getting ready," Patrick said looking at his watch and getting up from the table. "We need to leave in about an hour, and we don't want to be late!"
Shelagh and Timothy exchanged glances and, try as they might, they could not stifle snorts of laughter.