"Coo-eee! Young man!"

"Young man, please!" Sister Monica Joan called out from the length of the corridor.

The sound of her voice halted Timothy in his tracks. He had not been running; instead he had been walking quite respectfully to find Akela parcel in one hand from Mr Goldman that he knew was some extremely special lace and he was under particular orders to ensure it was delivered to her hand directly.

He turned to see the Sister waving another parcel at him.

"For your mother" she said, handing him the small box that bore a Scottish post mark. "I met with the postman some 10 minutes ago, but unfortunately I cannot find your mother anywhere".

Timothy's mind went blank for a moment until he realised she was talking about Shelagh. Yes - for his mother. Well, nearly his mother.

"I suggest you deliver it personally" she said, tapping him on the head in an affectionate manner. "It looks so very important".

She handed him the parcel which he studied very carefully. Adorning it was a perfectly legible postmark where he knew Shelagh's father and stepmother lived and the word "fragile" written in red was obvious.

"I think I am going to be a postman when I grow up" he muttered, when he was sure that the Sister was not in earshot. He knew where Shelagh was so he started on his way to the garden into a rare period of winter sun.

He rounded the corner leading to the large doors into the quadrant seeing Sister Julienne, Sister Evangelina and Cynthia at various points in the garden engaged in picking up the burnt Autumn leaves that littered the garden.

"Shelagh?" he said quietly having passed the pigsty to find her in the corner, kneeling next to an old piece of carpet that would form the bottom of the compost bin.

"Hello Timothy" she smiled.

"Akela asked me to collect a parcel for her as Constable Noakes has had to work and bring it back here and Dad is in work again too. Akela said I could help her with Fred. Can I ask Sister Julienne if she minds me staying here today?" The words came out in a bundle as though Timothy had seconds to impart his messages.

"Homework?" she said, remembering a conversation that she had had with Patrick just an afternoon ago where he had raised issue and worry that he had simply not had time to sit with his son this last week to help him.

"Homework" he paused with a look of barely disguised disgust on his face, having left the bundle of schoolbooks with Akela for safekeeping, "and I don't like staying in the house on my own".

"Well if you need any help we are all here", seeing the parcel in his hands, but perhaps more importantly recognising her father's neat script.

"Yes. Thank you", he replied. "Akela said that she would get me some orange juice and I can sit with her and work if Sister Julienne allows it. For company she said".

Shelagh watched him walk across the garden to the Sister, seeing her nod her head and smile at the boy, a gentle hand laid on his shoulder and she smiled to herself, thinking that perhaps she would like a son one day who was like him.

She looked down to the parcel in her hands and smiled to herself at what she knew lay carefully encased in that box.

She tucked it in her pocket and reminded herself that she too must sit with 'Akela' soon once again.

Another note was needed.