I should be so lucky

After only a few hundred meters drive they arrived at Mount Kilimanjaro View Lodge, a restaurant with a beautiful garden with blooming jacarandas and banana plants and a full view of Mount Kilimanjaro. About half of the tables were taken with customers being a mixture of what looked like local businesspeople and hospital staff.

Patrick led them to a table in the rear area, next to a few blossoming poinsettia plants. Immediately, the waitress, apparently not too busy on this afternoon, arrived to take their order. Timothy ordered ice cream, Patrick coffee and Shelagh a fresh mango juice. Patrick raised his eyebrows at her order. "Juice? No coffee?"

Shelagh smiled. "I feel like having something sweet today," she said with a grin.

Patrick chuckled. "Sweet drink for a sweet lady," he said and, when her face changed colour, realizing what he had said exactly, his expression changed to embarrassed. "I am sorry", he muttered. "I don't know why I said that."

Shelagh also smiled embarrassedly and bit her lips. She looked at the stem of the palm tree behind their table, not sure where to put her eyes. Luckily, Timothy came to the rescue. "Dad, Shelagh did really well with my arm. It did not hurt a bit. Not like Nurse Taylor at school."

Patrick smiled. "I am sure she did. She always knows what she is doing."

Shelagh blushed again and the conversation halted until the waitress brought their drinks and Timothy's ice cream. Shelagh exchanged a few sentences in Swahili with her while the boy tucked in immediately. The waitress left and Shelagh chuckled at the sight of Timothy: "I suppose they must have very good ice cream here," She exchanged an amused glance with Dr Turner and both fell silent for a while, sipping their drinks.

"Have you ever been up there?" he asked after a while, nodding his head towards the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro.

"No, never. I like going hiking in the highlands but I am not so much for climbing to the top, I think." Shelagh remarked. "Have you?"

"No, not yet. But Timothy wants us to go," Patrick said, "and I promised him that we will go one day, before we leave."

Shelagh raised her eyebrows: "Are you planning to leave?" she asked, sounding more alert than she intended.

"No, no, no plans," Patrick quickly replied. "My contract technically ends in June next year but we already agreed to extend it. I have a meeting in Durham just before Christmas, during which we will agree on the details. But I suppose we will be here for another two to three years."

Shelagh smiled but did not say anything. Did she feel relieved hearing he would stay? If so, why, she pondered.

"What about you?" Patrick asked. "I think we arrived here about the same time?"

"Yes, in 2006. No, I don't have any plans either. I like being here. I mean, one day, I think I will leave again, but not… well." She paused.

Patrick looked at her and when she did not continue to speak he said: "Did you want to say anything?"

"Well, I was just going to say that I … well, when I came here I did so with the intention of joining the order of St. Raymond Nonnatus. My father and Sister Julienne suggested I should consider this for a while until I make a final decision. Now, during the past months I have been thinking that it is about time to make this decision."

"You mean you want to become a nun?" Timothy exclaimed.

"Timothy, behave yourself," Patrick scolded, a bit more harsh than he intended; irritated about the shock her announcement had caused him. He continued, addressing Shelagh: "Well, this is a rather … important decision, I would think."

Shelagh smiled a small smile. "Yes, it is. But I feel it is time to make up my mind one way or another."

Both adults took several sips from their drinks and tried to avoid each other's eyes. Timothy finished his ice cream and asked: "Can I have a Fanta? And I need to go to the toilet."

"Go inside and order something," Patrick said half-heartedly, still processing Shelagh's announcement. He noticed her checking her watch and asked: "Are we delaying you?"

"No, you are not", she replied appeasingly, "but would you mind terribly if we left within the next half hour or so? It is getting a little late and I have to arrange some things for tomorrow's outreach visit."

"Of course," Patrick replied quickly and indicated to the waiter he wanted the bill.

"Where are you going tomorrow?" he then asked Shelagh.

"We are scheduled to visit a few Maasai villages near Lake Nyumba ya Mungu. I will be going with Jane."

"Have I already been there with you?" Patrick asked, embarrassed that he could not remember where Shelagh had taken him already.

"Why – would you like to come?" Shelagh asked, sincerely offering. "I would not mind. Although I already offered Tom to come, to get an impression of the rural areas around here."

Patrick was about to accept the invitation when he remembered that he could not. "Ah, damn. I would like to, but I have a meeting with the Dean of KCMC Research Institute. I have been waiting to meet this guy for weeks, I can't possibly reschedule." He cursed internally and felt a pang of jealousy inside his stomach. Why would she invite Tom, he wondered.

As if she had read his mind, Shelagh added: "I hope it is alright that I offered. I know Tom only started a few days ago but since he is interested in traditional medicine, I thought he might meet some focal people from the communities to work with him. It always helps when new people are introduced properly."

Patrick smiled at her. She truly was an angel. Even though it was not her task to care about Tom's progress in his work, she offered to help just because she was a genuinely friendly person.

The waitress arrived and placed the cheque on the table. When Shelagh reached out to her bag, Patrick raised one hand. "Please, Shelagh, you are our guest. You were so very kind to Timothy today."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Doc." He smiled at her using the short form.

While he paid, the waitress and Shelagh again exchanged a few sentences. Patrick noticed how Shelagh's expression suddenly changed from happy to embarrassed. She said something to the waitress, who then left, raising her eyebrows at Shelagh.

"What did you two talk about?" he asked curiously.

"Well, it's a bit embarrassing really," Shelagh laughed nervously.

Patrick looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Now I want to know," he said.

"She asked me whether it was going well with my mzee, my old man. I told her that we are just colleagues and she said she would have sworn you were my husband from the way you look –" she cleared her throat, "at me."

Patrick swallowed hard. He felt his cheeks getting a little warm. Luckily, Timothy had returned in the meantime, sipping on a bottle of Fanta.

"Well then", Patrick exclaimed and hastily jumped up from his chair. "Let's get going." The three left the restaurant garden and got into Patrick's car.

Inside, Shelagh in an attempt to ease his self-consciousness addressed Patrick: "Did I ever tell you that I find it remarkable that you are driving such a modest car? It does set you apart from most other expats in your position."

Patrick raised his eyebrows. He drove a ten-year old and somewhat battered Toyota Hilux Pickup he had bought from his predecessor, not a fancy Land Cruiser or another more comfortable four-wheel-drive.

"I don't really care about cars. They need to take you safely from A to B and I like that you can pack quite some stuff on the cargo area of this one."

They drove on in silence until they arrived at Nonnatus Mission. When they car stopped, Fred and Omari came running to help unload the boxes Shelagh had brought.

"Ah, Dr T.," Fred greeted the doctor.

"Nice to see you," Patrick greeted Fred.

Fred had been with Nonnatus Mission for fifteen years. Before, he had been in the British Army for more than twenty years. After his discharge, he wanted to do something useful and thus had joined the logistics team at Nonnatus Mission Headquarters in London. Eight years ago he felt he needed a change of scenery, and had transferred to Tanzania.

Fred began chatting with Patrick about the advantages of a car like his which never seemed to break down, much to Patrick's dismay. While the two were talking, Shelagh nodded a quick good-bye and went inside the main house. Patrick hoped she might come out again, but when she didn't, he wished Fred a good evening and returned to his car where Timothy was already waiting impatiently.

"Dad, why are you always taking so long?" he complained. "You could just have dropped off Shelagh. This is the only day of this week you are off work early and I still don't get to spend time with you." Patrick sighed absent-mindedly while they left the compound. He wished he could have continued talking to Shelagh.