The morning after she had pushed Sister Frances out of her cell, Sister Hilda was very grateful for being able to slip away from Nonnatus House unnoticed. Both nuns had managed to get through Compline the previous night without meeting each other's gaze, having composed themselves and dried their respective tears thoroughly enough to avoid detection by the rest of the Community. Sister Frances, on the other hand, had hoped to see her consoeur before she left, to apologise for whatever she had done to upset her so much, though what she had done, she was not entirely sure. What she thought was a reasoned and astute observation clearly had caused great offense. Sister Hilda's empty chair at both Lauds and breakfast confirmed to Sister Frances that she had left without saying goodbye. Sister Hilda never left without saying goodbye, ever. A knotting sense of guilt gnawed away at Sister Frances sufficiently to put her off her breakfast.
"Are you alright lass?" Phyllis asked her in the clinical room after breakfast .
"I'm just feeling a bit down," Sister Frances replied, truthfully, "like something's not quite right, or out of balance."
"Well, when I'm feeling down, I always find that throwing myself into a task to be a very good healer. Now, on that note, I have assigned you to the District round as Sister Hilda is away, you will find a list of her patients and their notes here," she added, handing over a stack of files, "and then," she continued, "since you're going that way, I want to you to go to the Balls' Bakery and order the cake for Cyril and Lucille's engagement party." Sister Frances' face, which had sunk further at the thought of a day on the District round, suddenly lifted. Phyllis pulled a handful of loose change out of her pocket, placed it in Sister Frances' hand and said kindly, "treat yourself to something nice while you're there. Cake, I find, is another excellent healer."
"Thank you Nurse Crane," Sister Frances replied, a smile rippling across her face for the first time since she entered Sister Hilda's cell the night before.
Helping with the preparations for Cyril and Lucille's surprise engagement party focussed Sister Frances' attention away from the rift between herself and her absent consoeur. But once the anticipation was over, the cake had been cut, and the decorations tidied away into one of the convent's cavernous store cupboards, a gloomy cloud hung over the young nun once more. It was at times like this, ever since she first met Sister Hilda, her gregarious if bossy, motherly yet authoritative, Mistress of Novices, when she wanted to go to no-one else in the world. For the first time her source of greatest comfort, and of greatest anxiety, were one and the same thing. Without Sister Hilda to express her feelings too, Sister Frances began to withdraw into herself. She began to excuse herself from recreation, prefering to take herself off for walks instead, or remaining in her cell. The silent stares and hushed whispers from the rest of the Community alerted her to the fact that her actions had not gone unnoticed.
As the warm August dragged on, despite the constant activity within Nonnatus House, Sister Frances found her mind drifting far from her work and she was soon aware that her prayer life was suffering too. Yet, once again, she found that the one person to whom she most wanted to confide in was absent. She found herself one evening wandering around the house, too restless to rest, too tired to work, too troubled to pray. On her travels, she found Trixie, sitting at the table perusing a pile of papers in front of her. After pausing for a moment to watch her, Sister Frances asked, "Have you joined another marriage bureau?"
"No," Trixie sighed with a smile, "I cashed in my membership of the last one and spent the money at the sales," she added, her grin broadening. Sister Frances could not help but reciprocate, her spirits suddenly lifting.
"I would have done the same," Sister Frances admitted, "if I were you. But I am married to my work, and Jesus." She paused for a moment, suddenly aware that neither of these had really been the focus of attention in recent weeks.
"I sometimes think the work we do is better than any spouse could ever be," Trixie replied kindly.
"Brings out the best in us," Sister Frances said thoughtfully, "and it's always there," she added. Another knotting sense of guilt turned in her stomach, knowing that she had not really been practicing what she was preaching.
"Hmmm," Trixie murmured, "yes, exactly that."
Trixie was right of course. Sister Frances mused on the elder, more worldly, girl's words. She loved her work, she truly did. She loved everything about the religious life. But she felt an overwhelming sense that she had not been living out her true vocation. Dissatisfaction had become a predominant feeling. She had been called by God to love his people, to care for them. But, as so often, that four letter word proved to be a sticking point.
A few afternoons later, Sister Frances was in the kitchen with Phyllis and Sister Monica Joan. She'd been sitting, staring into her cup of tea, when the front doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Sister Frances murmured non-committedly, heaving herself out of her chair with a far greater effort than was warranted.
Once she was out of sight, Phyllis turned to Sister Monica Joan and asked, "Is she alright?"
"'The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body,'" Sister Monica Joan began to quote, "'there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other,'" she continued.
"We've all certainly felt Sister Hilda's absence," Phyllis remarked, "the house is not the same without her. It's like when one of the lightbulbs goes from a room. You're alright to carry on with what you're doing, but the familiar warm glow is absent."
"Train up a child in the way she should go: and when she is old, she will not depart from it," Sister Monica Joan continued to recite.
Phyllis smiled and replied, "they are like two peas in a pod sometimes. Oh, talking of plant life."
At that moment, Sister Frances returned to the kitchen, carrying a large potted plant. She rested it on the side and said, "This has just been delivered for Nurse Franklin." She pulled the card towards her and read To a lovely lady, With many thanks, from Jonty. Having mulled the words over for a minute, she continued, "I shouldn't have read that card," holding her hands up in shame as she did so, "I've fallen into sin." Sister Monica Joan looked up from her book and stared at the young nun suspiciously. "I keep wondering who Jonty is," Sister Frances continued.
"Jonty is definitely a man's name," Phyllis remarked. Sister Frances nodded in agreement, a look of wide-eyed concern spread across her face. "I'm just wondering if it sounds a bit theatrical," Phyllis finished with a flourish.
"I'm also wondering what sort of a man sends a woman a Swiss Cheese plant?" Sister Frances replied, a look of confusion on her face.
"The question is," piped up Sister Monica Joan, "not what sort of a man, but why this precise botanical specimen?" Sister Frances pulled another confused look in reply. "Every bloom has a meaning presented thus. The Almanac has a full lexicon of the language of flowers."
"It's a very old book, does it have Swiss Cheese plants?" Sister Frances asked
"It has japonica, which this resembles. Loveliness." Sister Monica Joan replied.
"It's got a look of a rhododendron about it," Phyllis pondered thoughtfully,
"Rhododendron beware, I am dangerous," Sister Monica Joan warned, causing Sister Frances to leap away from the plant. Her retreat became even more hastened as Trixie walked into the kitchen. On noticing the Swiss Cheese plant, Trixie asked, "What's all this?"
"The evidence suggests you have an admirer," Phyllis replied. With a sense of intrigue Trixie took the card, as Sister Monica Joan added, "And his intentions are ambiguous."
Trixie snorted and said, "Jonty is short for Jonathan and he's a six month old baby." In response to the giggles from Phyllis and Sister Monica Joan, Trixie added mischievously, "Sorry to disappoint you all."
The plummeting of Sister Frances' face at this revelation, whilst hidden from Trixie, did not go unnoticed by the rest of the assembled company. Trixie picked up the Swiss Cheese plant and headed with it out of the room. Once her footsteps were no longer in earshot, Phyllis turned to Sister Frances and remarked,"Well, that's a face and a half."
"What do you mean?" Sister Frances asked.
"Come off it lass," Phyllis retorted, not unkindly but with enough force in her voice to concern Sister Frances, "your face just fell like a deck of cards."
"Well, I, um," Sister Frances began to stutter, "I just thought, it would be, nice, for Trixie to have an admirer, like Lucille and Cyril, I, um."
"Wanted some gossip?" Phyllis interrupted bluntly.
"Um," was all Sister Frances was able to articulate.
"Life's not quite like it appears in stories, you know," Phyllis replied, more kindly, "human emotions, and the relationships which they foster, are complicated things."
Sister Frances slumped back onto her chair, took a swig of her now-cold tea, pulled a face accordingly, and setting it aside said, "I just want to, I don't know, understand, do something, make a difference, live out the life I'm supposed to, I don't know." Her voice trailed off.
Sister Monica Joan reached out her hand and took one of Sister Frances' in hers and said, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied."
"Can I tell you something lass?" Phyllis asked kindly, "We all want to find fulfilment in our lives, whether that's through a relationship with another person, or our work, or in your case, with God. Wanting what others have, especially when they are impossible to obtain, will never satisfy you. I've seen the look in your eye Sister, I can see that you're searching for something, something you want that I assume your chosen life precludes you from having. We all have dreams, we all have desires. But we must know what we can achieve. If you want to be happy, lass, find your true desire, and work out how to obtain it."
"I'm not sure what that is," Sister Frances admitted.
"The Lord will provide," Sister Monica Joan assured, "he will place an opportunity in your path, an opportunity to show the true power and depths of your love."