"Nurse Noakes!" Sister Evangelina announced, pushing a glass of water and two pills towards Chummy, who was seated at the kitchen table, head in hands; her glasses discarded to one side.

"That look on your face is making us all miserable. Take those and it may clear your headache".

"What are they Sister?" Chummy asked, taking the two white pills from table.

"Phenacetin", the Sister announced taking up the kettle. "Strong enough to kill an ox if you take too many!"

Chummy took the tablets and water, swallowing carefully and not particularly feeling in the mood to appreciate the joke. She did not really want to take a drug that was partly barbiturate but she was to the point where desperation was taking precedence.

"Did you finish the rota on the board?" she was asked, hearing the clink of cup on saucer.

"Yes Sister" Chummy replied, setting the glass down.

Sister Evangelina had taken pity on the nurse seeing how pale she looked; knowing from Sister Julienne that her distress was entirely due to her familial circumstances. Sister Evangelina had met Lady Browne at the wedding reception and had bitten her tongue; mind thinking things that her mouth ought not to commit to, particularly as she was a woman of the cloth.

"Could you start preparing the medication audit as well nurse?"

"Yes Sister".

As much as she knew that Sister Evangelina could be difficult with her, she could well have sent her to clinic with squalling children running wild, lifting and carrying, but instead she stayed warm inside Nonnatus. She was relieved with this opportunity whilst the building was still that she may be able to shake this pain in her head and the low level of nausea that had settled in her stomach. Chummy had been quite used, over the years, to anxiety manifesting itself in headaches, a queasy stomach and broken sleep so it was nothing new. She still felt entirely awful in the process and as much as she should not be relieved, she would hope to be a better frame of mind when her parents had left.

She knew that if she was a good daughter she should not wish her parents away, however they seemed most reluctant to engage with her and her father's absolute absence since the wedding was a story in itself. She understood why he might want to speak to Peter but to not even want to see your daughter in the process? This headache had developed from worry and simply not knowing how Peter's visit had gone was sending her mind into a swirl, thinking all sorts of terrible thoughts.

She took up her glasses again as Sister Evangelina walked towards the ringing telephone, her face a picture of frustration at the interruption.

He didn't creep up on her this time. He knew she was nervy, knew she might jump so he stood by the door to the dining room, seeing her with papers and even more papers laid out in front of her. She was engrossed, talking to herself as she worked her way through the lists in front of her.

Peter cleared his throat and saw her turn immediately, an expectant look on her face.

"It went perfectly fine" he said, walking across to take up a seat next to her, taking her hand immediately in reassurance.

"Are you sure?" she asked, knowing that her face would perhaps crumble if there was one word of her husband being in distress.

"Absolutely. He didn't say anything we didn't already know. He just asked me about the job and about Poplar".

"And?" she asked, entirely unconvinced that he was asked about his job alone. She knew he would have faced more probing questions than that.

"He asked what I intended to do in the future".

"Chief Inspector Noakes" she interrupted smiling.

"If I can help it. He asked how we met and whether I respected you". He stopped, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. "And I do".

"Did he ask about me?"

It struck him for the first time that her father had indeed he had not asked after her in more than the most basic of terms and he already knew that she had not had a letter from him in a long while. He had wanted to go into this meeting with his father in law wanting to find out something about the man; questioning why any father would as good as abandon his child, but he had learnt very little. He hoped, however that he had made at least a decent impression and he had been comforted by the fact that her father had been at least civil to him.

"He said that he had not seen you for long time".

She nodded as much as her sore head would let her. He quickly changed the subject as he knew he had nothing more to say in that respect.

"Your Dad said that Ronnie and Bob were going to call in tomorrow before they left for Scotland. To say goodbye". She saw him frown. "Camilla, you do know they are coming back to London in the New Year?"

"Yes. Ronnie said a few days ago. It's her nephew's birthday on New Year's Day and she was going to visit him in Wimbledon".

"No. Camilla your Mum and Dad are coming back to London" he responded, slowly.

"Are they?" she asked quietly. Part of her wanted to see her father and part of her dreaded it.

"He said so. They are travelling to Ireland on Friday and will be back two days after New Year".

"Oh" she replied. It was more a sigh than an expression. Even though they had only been married barely a few weeks, he could already see the changes in her demeanour. Her face had dropped.

"What can he, they, do to us?" Peter said, squeezing her hand. "Really? It's too late to stop a wedding".

She nodded gently.

"Yes I know".

"You are here now and I am not going to let them take you away from here. Emotionally or physically".

She smiled knowing it was the truth and now, feeling the strength that he gave her, knew what choices she would make if her hand was forced.

"Has your headache gone?" he asked, curling a loose lock of hair around her ear.

"Not really but its better".

"But otherwise everything's 'tickety-boo'?" he asked, catching her eye.

"And splendid", she replied quietly. "As long as it really went alright with Pa?" She had to ask again.

"It did. I assure you".

It pleased her, and perhaps more so comforted her, that he was chipper. Even though she had a sneaking suspicion he might have glorified his encounter with her father to assuage her fears, she also knew he would not lie to her and she had to trust him.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked. "One thinks one needs a break".

He shook his head. "I only came in to see if you were here and tell you to save you worrying all night. The beat calls me" he concluded as she twisted one of the buttons on his tunic.

She nodded and smiled. "What time will you be in tonight?"

"Seven" he said, "In the morning" he added quickly.

"Really?"

"Fletch has called as his wife is ill and he said he will do tomorrow's night shift for me if I cover him tonight". The opportunity for almost two days to himself was a marvellous idea and he had what you might say was a surprise at hand for her that would take a day or two to engineer.

"I might stay here then. One has felt so guilty that this blasted headache has rendered me useless for most of the day and I might be able to take a call or two tonight"

"Well if you are going to be here tonight, I'll probably see more of you when I nip in for a bit of a warm at midnight".

She knew his version of a 'bit of a warm' and it would be entirely inappropriate behaviour for the roof of a convent.

"I might think about letting you have five minutes in front of the fire" she replied, having no intention of watching the clock if he did indeed arrive.

"I would hope so". He kissed on her the cheek before standing up, knowing she was joking.

"I'll walk with you to the door", she said, in need of that cup of tea and to stretch her back and legs.

As she stood, the room spun for a second and she gripped his hand.

"Are you sure you are alright?" he asked, concern deep in his voice.

"Yes" she breathed. "This blasted headache is feeling more like a migraine". She had not had a migraine for years. The last one was days before her final examinations and brought on by worry and the most negative form of anticipation she could think of.

"Should I take you home?" he asked, more than willing to.

"No. I'll have a nap upstairs later" she replied, walking with him on his arm to the door.

"Peter".

"Hmmm?" he said turning as he pushed open the door to Nonnatus.

"I went for a walk before for some fresh air. I went to see Philip."

"He'd like that" he replied. His brother had always been the more social of the two; Peter having that element of reserve that he had inherited from their father. Peter knew in his heart of hearts that his brother would approve of his choice of wife.

"The flower pot had fallen over so I straightened it and put some artificial flowers down" she continued. "They may survive the weather better".

"I don't mind Camilla if you go; you don't have to have my permission". She felt his hand snake up to cradle her cheek. "I am not going to shout at you".

"But your Mum might object".

"Then I will tell her it was you although I know she won't. She won't be going to the grave until at least Saturday now anyway".

"One just doesn't want to upset her". She was so afraid of upsetting him and his parents, knowing how he felt, knowing how he was now opening up about his experiences to her. She did not want him to think that she was overstepping what was a very sensitive line. Having spent most of her life petrified of upsetting anyone these were three people that she desperately wanted to love her.

"You are my family, Camilla, regardless of what your Mum and Dad might think and if you want to visit your brother in law's grave, you can".

She smiled and received a kiss.

"Go and have your nap and I will pop back as close as I can to midnight"