Soon after the last letter from Doctor Turner, Sister Bernadette was to be discharged. As we know, she called Dr Turner, who couldn't bear to wait a second longer than he had to see her again and he certainly didn't want her traveling by public transport so soon after her illness. He and Timothy found her, while driving in the mist…
"Dad! There's a woman in the wrong clothes and I think it's her!" exclaimed Timothy.
Dr Turner's heart leaped into his mouth as he peered through the mist at the figure ahead. "Was it her? Yes! It's her". He stopped and got out the car. He hesitated for a moment. He had waited so long but here she was. What if she didn't care for him though? That would be embarrassing after all those letters, not to mention the fact it would tear his heart in two. However, here she was, without a proper coat on, carrying her two suitcases and her handbag, in the middle of nowhere. What on earth was she doing?
He moved towards her, with a little bit of a run in his step. He paused then put his hand on her forehead to check she wasn't running a fever. Sister Bernadette, as she was formally called, closed her eyes and seemed to melt with his touch.
"What if it had started raining? What if you'd got lost?" he asked, with concern.
She looked into his eyes and replied, "I was lost. I got the wrong bus."
The doctor took off his coat and put it around her, holding it under her chin.
"I was on the right road?" he asked.
"Yes." She said. "I know you so little but I couldn't be more certain." There it was. She did care!
"I am completely certain! I don't even know your name."
"Shelagh."
"Patrick."
"There." Shelagh stated. " We've made a start."
They seemed to get lost in each other's eyes for a few moments then Patrick said, "Timothy is in the car."
"Yes. I noticed. It will be so good to see him again."
Patrick said, almost apologetically, "He was there already as I was leaving. He thought I was going on my rounds. I told him on the way that we were going to pick you up. He was excited. He's missed you too."
"And I have missed him!" She didn't mind a bit. There would be plenty of time to spend with Patrick later and she did love the young boy.
"I haven't said anything to him yet as I wasn't yet sure how things were with you."
"About that, doctor…" she smiled, "…I mean, Patrick. I said in my letter to Timothy that I would reply to your letters in due course. Well, I did reply."
"I didn't receive any letters from you." He said, looking a little confused.
Shelagh explained, "Well, I didn't think it appropriate for me to mail them while still wearing the habit, although, truth be told, I was wearing it when I wrote some of them. As time went on, I felt less comfortable wearing the habit, and felt less like a nun. However, I still thought I ought to hold off until I was a hundred percent sure what my path should be, and out of respect for God and the habit."
"Ah! I understand, Shelagh." That made perfect sense.
"I have the letters in my handbag," she said. "Please take them and read them later."
"I'd be delighted." He said softly and smiled.
Patrick loosened his grip on his coat so Shelagh could retrieve the letters. She handed them to Patrick.
"Should we go to the car now?" asked Shelagh.
"Yes. Timothy's waiting." He replied. "Before we do, I'd just like to say one more thing."
"Yes?"
"I said this in my letters but I have to tell you in person. I love you Shelagh!"
"I love you too, Patrick!" She responded and a load came off his shoulders that he had been carrying for many months.
Later that night, after Timothy went to bed, Patrick began to read his letters from his beloved Shelagh.
