Four
Though it felt like mere moments after her head hit the pillow, Shelagh felt herself being pulled from sleep by a soft touch to her shoulder and a kind voice in her ear.
"Shelagh? Darling, I'm so sorry to wake you, but it's after seven, and we should be at Nonnatus no later than eight."
She stirred and blinked her eyes to see Patrick hovering over her, already dressed for the day. Forcing herself to sit upright and stretch her back, she nodded. "Oh, yes of course. You were right to wake me."
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and then said, "I'll go and start the tea."
Once he'd gone, she stood and stretched again. She had slept straight through the night, but not quite seven hours of sleep wasn't enough rest after her days' long ordeal. Still, seeing as it was the first day she had looked forward to in quite some time, she was motivated to start her day—and the next stage in her life.
She shuffled to the bathroom, completed her personal tasks efficiently, and then returned to the hall. From that position she could see the white sheath dress Mother Mary had given her draped over the end of the bed, but just the sight of it made her shiver. Patrick's pajamas were cozy, but not in any way suitable for public dress, so she would have to put the dress back on until she could obtain other clothing—hopefully that very day—though she was loathe to do it.
Sighing, she made her way towards the kitchen, saying "I don't think I can stomach putting that wretched dress back on—at least not until I've had some tea."
"Oh—would that help?" he asked, gesturing behind her.
Shelagh turned and gasped when she saw the item now sitting by the sofa. "My suitcase!"
"I'm sorry—I completely forgot I had it in my car. Sister Julienne gave it to me days ago so that I would have your birth certificate and nursing license—just in case I had to…well, I'm not sure. Prove that I knew you? Turns out bribery worked just as well."
She barely heard him as she crouched down and opened the case, skimming her hands over the belongings she'd locked away a decade prior. "Oh my," she sighed, pulling out the outfit folded neatly on top. Turning to look over her shoulder at him, she explained, "I wore this when I took my nursing school exams. Thank you."
She took the items she needed into the bedroom to change. The clothes probably should have been refreshed as they were creased and smelled a little musty, but she couldn't bring herself to care. They were her clothes, not a uniform provided by the Mother House or a mentally unwell woman, and she would wear them proudly.
"Lovely," Patrick proclaimed when she walked into the kitchen. He handed her a teacup and then gestured for her to join him at the table. "Now I suppose the question remains: what next?"
She gazed at him curiously. "Well, I thought we'd eat some breakfast and then go see the sisters and Timothy."
He smiled. "I meant in a broader sense. Shall we act like we're married? Should we have another wedding ceremony? Do you want to keep working as a midwife?"
"Oh. I see." She nodded slowly as she considered his questions one by one. "Well, I don't like the idea of us having married without Timothy there. Or any of our other friends."
"I agree. We can have a proper ceremony this time. One without all the bizarre commentary."
She laughed, as with all the other moments the prior day had provided, the content of their wedding ceremony had slipped down the list of items to be discussed. "It was so bizarre!"
He laughed too. "Quite."
"We should have another ceremony, but I don't want to wait too long."
He sipped his tea, considering. "Well, how long do you think it would take to prepare?"
"Oh, I don't know. A few weeks maybe? I've never planned a wedding before."
"I'm afraid I can't be much help, because neither have I. Tim's mother and I didn't have a proper wedding."
"You didn't?"
He shook his head. "No, it was during the wartime so we just did it at the office along with many others." He put his teacup down and reached out his hand to pick up hers. "There's no need to rush into any decisions. You've been through such an ordeal; you need to rest and recover. I think the only pressing matter we must decide upon is whether you will continue to stay here."
As she had thought about it while she was readying herself for the day, she already had an answer on that point. "I do not think that I should. If Jacob was a disgraced clergyman, our ceremony would not have been official."
"I'm not sure we have a way of proving Jacob's status one way or the other, so I would say the choice is yours. I want you to feel comfortable."
"I will ask Sister Julienne if I can stay at Nonnatus, but I will also try and plan the wedding to take place as soon as possible."
He grinned. "Sounds perfect. Shall I make the porridge then?"
"I can do it."
He joined her in the kitchen, directing her to where the necessary items were stored in his kitchen. As she stirred their pot of porridge, he came up behind her and placed his arm around her waist to give her a hug from behind. She leaned back into his chest and gently rubbed her fingers over the back of his hand.
"You are quite small, you know. I don't think I realized before."
She laughed at the observation. "Our habits were meant to hide she shape of our bodies and the veil probably made me seem a bit taller."
He hummed and rubbed his hand on her side as he pulled away. "Shelagh…what did Mary and Jacob feed you?" She pressed her lips together tightly, not wanting to answer directly, but he could see the expression on her face and she could hear him make a sound of disgust. "Will the horrors never cease?"
She turned towards him, trying to placate his concern. "The first few days weren't so bad. We had eggs from their chickens, vegetable soup, and fresh bread."
"And after that?"
As their porridge finished cooking, she pulled it from the stove and began spooning it into bowls. "She wouldn't feed me after my escape attempts. I only got water and one piece of bread."
"That dreadful woman should not be allowed to get away with all of her crimes against you."
She felt her chest tighten and turned to face him with her arms folded across her chest. "I don't want to go to the police, if that's what you're implying. I don't mind speaking with you about what happened, Patrick, but I don't think I could tell others. I don't want the nuns or midwives to know either. There's no point to it."
He gave her a sympathetic look. "But what about the girls that remain there?"
"They didn't try to escape so they weren't punished as I was," she rationalized, though she did understand his larger point. There was no guarantee the other girls would be safe from torture and one could only assume if she had taken three women, she would take more. Would those new women have as horrendous an experience as she had? Would they eventually be married off to men Mary or Jacob found worthy? Men who surely would not be as kind hearted an understanding as the one before her. All of that was likely, but she wasn't sure she had the strength in that moment to fight for others, as the thought of continuing to be involved with the situation caused terror to strike through her.
"But they're still in less-than-ideal circumstances."
Shelagh nodded. "I will pray for them, certainly. Maybe God will show me how I can help."
He nodded, gave her shoulder a rub, and then helped her finish preparing their breakfast so they could eat.
"Um, hello?" Patrick called out as he walked into Nonnatus House, his new wife trailing just a step behind him. "Where is everyone?"
Cheers of "Oh! They're back!" and "Oh thank goodness!" could be heard coming from the dining area, so they made their way there to be greeted with all the nuns and midwives, plus Timothy, who jumped out of his seat to give his father an immediate hug.
"You're finally back!"
"Yes—finally!" Patrick emphasized.
Meanwhile, Shelagh was being hugged by Trixie, Jenny, and Cynthia all at the same time. Sister Julienne had stood from the head of the table and was beaming wide, while Sister Evangelina looked skyward and said a quick prayer.
"Did you just drive back this morning?" Jenny asked once they had extricated themselves from the four-way hug.
"No, last night, but it was nearly midnight and we didn't want to wake anyone here."
"You should have!" Timothy insisted.
His father eyed him suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be on your way to school."
"I can be a few minutes late for this. Right?"
Patrick laughed. "I suppose so."
By that point, Sister Monica Joan had joined them and shuffled up beside Shelagh, pointing to her bandaged forearm, which was fully exposed since she wore a short-sleeved blouse. "You are home but as we feared it appears that injuries have befallen you."
"I'm fine now, sister. Don't worry about me."
Patrick stepped up beside her, put his arm around her shoulders and said, "We promise to share the full tale in due course, but for now we must tell you one pressing matter. Shelagh and I are married…sort of."
While the women in the room gasped and cheered, Timothy's brow wrinkled. "Sort of? How can you sort of be married?"
"It is a long story that can be summarized by the fact that we cannot be certain that the man who married us retained his qualifications. Besides, you all weren't there, so we'll be having another ceremony here in Poplar."
"Oh, how thrilling!" Jenny said
"We'll do anything we can to help!" Trixie added.
"Thank you," Shelagh said to them graciously.
They shared congratulations for anther few minutes before the midwives departed to begin their daily appointments. Once they departed, Sister Julienne told the newlyweds, "You must dine with us tonight so we can celebrate your safe return."
"Yes, that sounds nice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to finally return to the surgery." To Shelagh, he added, "Will you be all right here?"
"Of course. I'll see you later," she said. He smiled, kissed her cheek quickly, and then departed. Sister Evangelina then left as well, muttering something about kisses at the breakfast table.
When they were alone, Sister Julienne gave Shelagh a quick hug and told her, "We are so relieved that you have been returned safe."
"Thank you, Sister, though I feel I must apologize."
"Whatever for?"
She wrung her hands together as she spoke. "Because I did not speak to you about the change in my path as soon as I decided on it. I was to meet with Dr. Turner last Saturday to speak with him about my intentions. I was going to speak with you after. Maybe I should have done that in the reverse order."
"It is no matter now. After everything, such a concern seems rather trivial. Though we will still need to process your resignation paperwork, Mrs. Turner."
Though the sister's tone was jovial, Shelagh felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment at the new moniker. "Oh, I don't think you should call me that—not yet. I would feel so awful if it turned out that clergyman did not retain his qualifications."
"You had a ceremony with an officiant?"
"His registrar was for the Church of England, yes."
The sister nodded. "Then, I think, in the eyes of God you are married. But you may do whatever makes you most comfortable."
Shelagh nodded and explained all that she and Patrick had already agreed upon. "We do want to marry again—under better circumstances. We intend to do so as quickly as possible, but in the meantime, may I stay here with the midwives? I will continue my shifts."
"Of course, you may, but we will not give you any shifts until next week. I do believe you need a few days to recover."
"Thank you, Sister. And thank you for all that you did to help bring me back home. It is appreciated more than I can ever say."
"You are most welcome, but I must say nearly all the credit belongs to Dr. Turner. I've never seen someone quite so determined." She let the comment hang in the air for a moment before gesturing towards the hallway that led to the stairs. "Come now—we shall clean out your old room together."
"I think it's about time you went to bed, young man." Patrick told his son as the radio program they were listening to came to a close.
As was typical, Timothy huffed dramatically, but made no other protest. Instead, he bid goodnight to his father and (sort of) stepmother before disappearing into his room.
Once he was out of earshot, Patrick removed his arm from around Shelagh's shoulders only so that he could turn his body to face her instead of sitting side by side. When he arrived home that evening and found her making dinner, he'd told her that they needed to speak, but their conversation was not one fit for Timothy's consumption, as it involved the time spent with her captors. For Timothy's sake, they explained only that Shelagh was held by a couple intent on finding her a husband and that she was let go once Patrick was clear about his intentions towards her. At Shelagh's request, the story they told the nuns was similarly vague, though they did tell them about the other women Mother Mary was being held captive so that the Mother House could alert all postulants to be cautious around approaching couples driving white vans. They figured it was the best they could do to prevent Mary from taking any more women against their will.
One week had passed since Shelagh returned to Poplar and she was doing well, all things considered. On her second day back they had been walking to a park with Tim when a white van drove past them and it sent her into hysterics. She had cried for fifteen minutes, and it absolutely shattered his heart. Thankfully, since that day, she improved steadily. He was pleased to see that with new clothes and the ability to style her hair for the first time in a decade she was blossoming into her true self.
"You wanted to talk about something?" she asked.
He nodded and began tentatively. "The last thing I want to do is bring up memories that will upset you, but I also promised to be completely honest with you."
Her expression fell into one of concern. "It's something to do with them, isn't it?"
He nodded and grabbed on to her hand so he could hold it as he explained what he had discovered. "As you know, I went into London today to consult with a specialist on a local case. Before I went, I had made some inquiries about a clergyman named Jacob. We don't know much about him, so I knew the search might not yield any results, but luckily one of the administrators has family in Poplar and was willing to help to the best of her ability. I followed up today before I came back."
"And?"
"We believe he is called Jacob Sterling and was formerly leading a parish near Luton."
She frowned. "Formerly? So, he was disgraced?"
"No," Patrick said firmly. "He never lost his official status, though there were several registered complaints of his inappropriate behavior with young women."
Shelagh swallowed hard. "How young?"
He gave her a sad smile, as that had been his first question as well. Sadly, there was no answer. "It is unclear—that's all they would say. But since there were only complaints, mostly rumors, and no criminal charges he was simply asked to leave and invited to apply for a position elsewhere, though records show he never did."
"When was this?"
"About a year ago."
She appeared deep in contemplation for several moments before pushing herself into a standing position. She hugged her arms tightly across her body and paced the area in front of the couch. When, after a few minutes, she said nothing, he prompted her with, "What are you thinking?"
She stopped pacing and stared down at him with a distraught expression. "I do not think I can properly convey to you the terror that I felt over the notion I would be forced into something I could not escape from. I didn't let myself think about it too much, because the fear was such that I could hardly breathe, but it haunted me every single day I was with them. I didn't know if Jacob would come for me in the night. Or if I would simply be trapped into marriage and—and forced to do something I only wished to do with you."
Guilt raked at his soul as he watched her dissolve into tears. He stood and pulled her into his arms immediately, holding her close and letting her cry into his chest. The sentiments behind her words were so sweet, but yet the manner in which they were forced to come out was terribly upsetting. "Oh my darling I am so sorry that you experienced that; I cannot even imagine how you felt. I worried that bringing this up again might dredge up some of these feelings and I am sorry for that, but I felt you had to know the truth. We are married—officially. We've confirmed that now. You don't have to worry for one more second about being with anyone else but me."
He heard her sniffle out, "Okay," though she continued to hold him tightly for the better part of five minutes until she calmed her sobs ad used a handkerchief to mop up her face.
Sitting side-by-side on the couch once more, he cupped her face with his left hand and asked, "I didn't want to upset you, truly, but I wanted you to know that the marriage we had was real, and we don't have to continue our plans for-"
"No," she cut him off, her voice sounding strong and steady once again. "I want our wedding in two weeks to be our real one and I want to forget Jacob and Mary ever existed."
He nodded quickly. "Okay. Yes. Let's do that."
"Okay." She smiled softly and then put her arms around him once more, settling her head into the crook of his neck.
He cradled her against him, placed a few gentle kisses on her forehead, and sighed out, "I love you, Shelagh."
She squeezed him a little harder while saying, "I love you, too."
Patrick then closed his eyes and held her tight, knowing they could keep holding on to each other forever.
Thank you all for reading!