This chapter may not belong here because it includes a bit before they were a family.

Christmas Night, 1957

Babies come every day of the year including Christmas. Sister Bernadette was called out to assist Nurse Miller with Mrs. Lanny. Her baby was not behaving himself. Sister Bernadette was leaning her bike against the tenement building when the green MG approached and parked haphazardly in front.

Doctor jumped out with his bag and greeted, "Happy Christmas sister… shall we go see about a Christmas baby?"

It was shy of ten o'clock, so the bairn would need to be born soon to share his birthday with the saviour. Sister hadn't seen Dr. Turner since the nativity play and wanted to asked if Timothy had had a nice Christmas. She knew that doctor was worried that the holiday would undo things for his lad.

Patrick stood back and allowed Sister to confirm that the baby was indeed a transverse lie. She set to work on the external version. He experienced an awe every time she was called in to perform the procedure. Her tiny stature didn't seem strong enough as her face tensed with concentration and exertion. The intensity in her face relaxed into a smile as she succeeded in turning the foetus.

"Well done, sister," he said and he began to give instructions to the midwives to prepare for a forcep delivery.

Sister glanced at her watch and smiled to think that it was likely he would be a Christmas baby. Mrs. Lanny really was quite brave. Sister was awed by the courage their mothers showed. She had chosen a path that required faith not courage and couldn't imagine ever requiring such bodily courage herself.

Shortly after the birth of a healthy girl called Holly, Sister left Nurse Miller to get mother and baby settled. Doctor followed her out and once in the cold night air, she asked, "How was Timothy's Christmas?"

He replied without emotion, "Fine. You were right, he is rather resilient."

Sister nodded as she turned to secure her bag on her bike. She heard the doctor wish her goodnight, but she didn't respond. She was deep in thought wondering how resilient the doctor was. She worried that the son was thriving better than the father.

When she returned to Nonnatus House, she remember both in her prayers.

Christmas Eve, 1958

Shelagh watched as the nurse lifted a weak Timothy into his bed. She turned to Patrick who was studying his son's breathing, finally on his own. Shelagh was so relieved that the worst appeared to be over — not that there wouldn't be challenges ahead. It was too soon to know if he would walk again, but that was not an immediate concern since only a few hours ago they feared he may die.

Patrick's face was ashen. She could only imagine how tired he felt as he had sat vigil by his son for over twenty-four hours. As Timothy dozed off, she whispered, "You need to go get some sleep. You're exhausted."

Patrick sighed, he hated to leave Timothy, but he knew that Shelagh was right. He'd be no use to his son if he didn't take care of himself. Thankfully he had Shelagh to ensure that he did. Sighing again, he allowed himself to remember the one thing that he had forced into the farthest corner of his mind. Shelagh should be his wife, instead he would be forced to climb into a cold bed in his empty flat.

They drove to Shelagh's lodging in silence, After pulling to the kerb, Patrick asked, "Will you be allowed in, it's late…"

"I imagine that word has reached my landlady and she will understand… I wasn't supposed to be back..."

Her words hung in the air like a cloud of black smoke. Patrick reached for her hand moving his thumb back and forth on the back of her soft hand, he said, "I know. I'm sorry." His voice was full of raw emotion. "I'm so relieved that Tim is breathing, it wouldn't be fair to complain because our wedding didn't happen…"

"I feel that way too. I worried that it was a sign that perhaps…"

"No!" Patrick exclaimed quite loud in the quiet night. "We know that illness has its own agenda. We are meant to be married when... I can't say, but we deserve our happiness."

"Oh Patrick," Shelagh squeaked as tears clouded her eyes.

"Tim will gain strength and we'll set a new date. In the meanwhile, I'll continue to court you as I had before."

He opened his door and Shelagh sat as he walked around the car to open hers. He took her hand as he walked her to the door. She looked at him with concern. "Patrick promise me you'll get some sleep."

"I promise. Goodnight Shelagh," he said softly as he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. Shelagh sighed, because she too wished they were spending Christmas as husband and wife.

Christmas Night, 1959

Shelagh was warm in bed as she watched Patrick place Angela back in her cot. When he climbed in next to her, he lifted the duvet and brought a rush of cold air. Whispering he said, "I think our daughter has had a very nice first Christmas."

They had shared Christmas dinner with their Nonnatus family. It was a lovely, festive day. Shelagh's mind wandered to just one year before. They didn't know if Tim would walk again as they both hid their disappointment about the wedding. She hardly remembered the shy woman who was nervous about becoming a wife. Now they were a family and had a daughter. Her heartbreak over her inability to conceive was erased by one tiny perfect face.

Patrick slipped his arm under her and she turned to rest her head on his shoulder. She wasn't certain she would ever stop marveling at how her life had changed. Feeling the warmth of her husband's body she slipped her hand over his heart. He placed his over hers and she felt him kiss her head.

"Happy Christmas, darling," he whispered.

Shelagh lifted her head and tilted her face toward his. She couldn't see his face in the dark, but she could feel his heart quicken. She moved until her lips met his. Patrick eagerly returned her kiss. When the kiss ended, he said, "You're quiet…"

"Sorry… I've been remembering last Christmas and how much has changed."

Patrick laughed, "I slept alone last Christmas…"

"Patrick! Tim was in hospital uncertain if he'd walk…"

"I know darling, but we were meant to be married and I had dreamed of holding you like this…"

"Just like this?"

"Well not exactly," Patrick replied as he rolled on his side so he was face to face with her. Putting his hand on her back pulling her closer. "Happy Christmas, darling."

Again Shelagh didn't respond because her lips were otherwise engaged. Patrick received another gift — Shelagh too.

Christmas Night, 1960

The Turner family was walking home from their Christmas celebration at Nonnatus House. It had been a rather exciting day.

"I can't believe I have a famous wife… singing on the telly," Patrick teased.

"Oh Patrick!" Shelagh said as Patrick saw that pink creep into her cheeks. He often wondered which Shelagh he loved more shy Shelagh or bold Shelagh. Occasionally bold Shelagh became quite a bossy boots and it was then he prefered his shy girl.

"I remember the first time I heard your voice singing in the chapel…"

"Patrick!" Shelagh looked at Timothy feeling embarrassed.

"It was years age. Timothy was most likely about Angela's age. My autoclave was broken… as always and it was eerily quiet as I waited and then the singing started. You know I'm not religious, but I was drawn it... It was beautiful."

Shelagh had a full blush and changing the subject she said, "My mind keeps wandering to Iris Willens. I imagine they had a very happy Christmas."

Timothy had run ahead with Angela who should be exhausted and Shelagh continued in a quiet voice, "When I mentioned this to Sister Julienne she surprised me and said that she is still praying for us. I honestly think she should save her prayers for the needy…"

"Shelagh, you know better than I that there isn't a limitation on prayer."

"I know, but Patrick if it were even possible, then surely it would have happened by now." She whispered the word 'now'.

Patrick smiled at his shy girl again. "Shelagh, you know as well as I that medicine is an odd science. There are miracles every day. Although we can't prevent measles, we can prevent hyperemesis gravidarum with one little pill."

Patrick thought of bold Shelagh who encouraged him to look for that solution. She really was a force to behold as his partner at the surgery.

"Still the idea of Sister praying for that is embarrassing."

"I disagree, Shelagh. I think it shows her acceptance of your choice." Patrick remembered when Shelagh was very uncomfortable with her decision to be his wife and she had separated herself from the sisters. Hoping to lighten the mood, he said, "I really think if Sister is praying we should do our part…"

"Oh Patrick!" She blushed, but Patrick knew that bold Shelagh would show herself before the night was over.

Christmas Night, 1961

"Shelagh come to bed," Patrick said looking up from his book.

"My mind is racing with everything we'll need to do…"

"Until I locate a suitable locum we can't be certain we'll be making the journey. Last Summer the idea of a week in Lyme Regis seemed impossible and now you want me to leave the surgery for more than a month…"

"Perhaps the whole idea is crazy… Leaving the surgery and the children…"

"I can honestly say I never had any burning desire for missionary work, but I am intrigued to see how the primitive hospital runs."

"Your work here in Poplar is viewed by some as primitive…"

"The dwelling of our patients perhaps, but our surgery and maternity home are anything, but…"

"I've never flown in an airplane," Shelagh admitted.

"Nor have I. My trip to the continent was compliments of His Majesty's Navy. It certainly wasn't a holiday…"

"Patrick, Hope Clinic won't be like the war…"

"Darling, the thought never crossed my mind. I will miss the children though. Angela looked like her mummy in her nurse's costume."

"She did look adorable," Shelagh admitted.

Patrick laughed and said, "You are adorable too."

Shelagh laughed. It sounded as if she was fishing for a compliment, but that was unnecessary with Patrick for a husband. He was never stingy on compliments.

Shelagh slid in bed next to Patrick. Yawning she said, "I feel as though this trip could be life changing."

"Life changing or not, we won't know tonight. We should sleep," Patrick suggested. Shelagh cuddled against him and he whispered, "Or not."

Christmas, 1962

"Patrick…" Shelagh whispered. She carried Teddy downstairs. He had woken for his two am and Shelagh was surprised to find the bed empty. "Are you waiting up for Father Christmas?"

Patrick laughed, but she could tell he was distracted. She noticed he was dressed.

"I must have slept through the telephone…"

"You were snoring. I wasn't out long, but it wasn't the house call I would have chose over Christmas."

"Oh?" Shelagh had settled in next to Patrick with Teddy at her breast. He was suckling, but she knew he would soon be asleep again as he was still so little.

Patrick caressed their son's head and Shelagh noticed slightly alarmed that his fingers failed to graze her and they typically would.

"It was a patient from Hammond's surgery. I was only there long enough to certify the death."

"Was he elderly?"

Patrick shook his head and said, "She was a young mother… cancer. I was sitting here thinking so many things… How Christmas would be doubly hard for her children… How her husband was inconsolable and I knew that feeling, but also how lucky we are…"

Again he reached out to the downy head of the sleeping infant.

Shelagh said, "We are, but you can still feel sad and miss her."

"I know and I love you because you understand. You know I don't have a sense of where she is, but I find comfort in the thought that she might be helping Tim and me. Perhaps she helped you choose me or perhaps she interceded to give us our little miracle…"

Shelagh smiled. "... Perhaps she brought Angela to us too."

"You don't think I'm crazy then?" Patrick asked.

"The last time you were crazy, you kissed a hand that you had no business kissing…"

"I didn't know what possessed me…"

Together they both said, "Marianne!"

The tension was broken. "Come on the children will be up early. I'll let you hold me," Shelagh said.

"Don't snore in my ear," Patrick teased.

"I don't snore!"

Christmas Eve, 1963

"Mum! Mum! Come quick!" Tim hollered.

"Tim, whatever is the matter!" Shelagh ran out of the kitchen. She'd been deep into pastry for the minces.

She stopped short and gasped at the scene in front of her. Teddy was taking a few tentative steps back and forth between Tim and Angela. They were in front of the Christmas tree. Her vision blurred as tears erupted.

Quickly she went and kneeled down next to Angela and Tim set her baby off towards her. She caught him and kissed his neck. He giggled, but squirmed out of her arms. Clearly he wanted to practice his new skill. Mesmerized, her pastry was forgotten.

At the sound of the door, she whispered, "Shhh!"

Patrick appeared and took in the scene in front of him. In no time he was beside Tim and capturing his toddling son.

He said to the baby, "What a lovely Christmas treat! I just hope your old dad can get up off this floor."

With that Tim and Shelagh laughed and Angela copied them.

"This is a Happy Christmas!" Patrick concluded.

Happy Christmas to readers and lovers of Call the Midwife.