Should I stay or should I go
About four weeks later, Dr Turner entered the compound of Nonnatus Mission again. After he parked his car, he walked straight to Sister Julienne's office who was already waiting for him.
"Dr Turner, thank you for coming in immediately," she greeted.
"I am sorry about the cause of my visit," he said, his voice quiet.
A young mother, Asha Shamar, who had regularly attended the antenatal clinic at Nonnatus Mission, had given birth to a health baby boy. Sadly, Cynthia Miller had found the little boy dead in his mother's bed five days later.
Dr Turner had been the physician present during Asha's last check-up at clinic, just days before she had given birth. Sister Julienne had therefore requested him to go over Cynthia's notes in order to rule out any neglect on the nurse's side. Both were certain no irregularities would be found, but Sister Julienne wanted the doctor to write a short report to be submitted to the police.
"You can sit in my office," Sister Julienne said. "Unfortunately, I have to go out; I need to see the bishop about another rather urgent matter. But Shelagh is about to bring in the notes and will be around if you need anything else."
Sister Julienne left the room and Patrick looked around. Sister Julienne's office was furnished functionally as one would expect a mission office. There was a desk, three chairs and a few filing cabinets, all made from the dark wood local carpenters usually used. In one corner, there was also a small extra table with two chairs. Everything was spotlessly clean and tidy.
Patrick sat down at the extra table, putting his backpack containing his laptop and some files on the second chair.
"Greetings, Doctor," he heard Shelagh's voice when she entered the door. "Here are all of Cynthia's notes. And you are most welcome to join us for dinner afterwards. For the meantime, I brought you a cup of coffee. It is only Africafe, the instant one, but I hope this is all right?"
"Thank you, Shelagh. And I don't mind at all. Although, to be honest, I don't understand how people can really drink this stuff when they live in a coffee-growing area like Kilimanjaro. But to tell you the truth, anything slightly reminiscent of coffee is welcome this time of the day."
Shelagh gave him a small smile. He looked awfully tired, she thought. "Is there anything else I can get you, Dr Turner?" she asked.
Patrick looked at her wearily. "Some of your faith, perhaps," he said. "It is at times like this I wish I had one."
"I wish at times like this, it made a difference," she replied quietly while turning around to leave the room. Patrick stopped in his movement putting down his cup. He had not expected her of all people to say words like these.
He suddenly felt intrigued and said: "Please stay, take coffee with me."
Shelagh stopped and looked at him: "Thank you, but I am expected in the dining room." She was about to turn again, when Patrick said: "Wait." She looked at him questioningly and for a moment he was lost, not knowing what to say.
"Erm, I haven't thanked you for your dinner invitation yet," he said meekly. "But I am afraid I have to decline. As soon as I am done with the notes", he nodded towards the folder Shelagh had placed in front of him, "I need to head home to Timothy. I promised him I would be there for dinner tonight, even though it will be a rather late dinner, I am afraid."
Shelagh smiled. "Please say hello to Timothy from me. It's been a while since I last saw him."
"I will," Patrick nodded, desperately thinking of what else to say to keep her in the room for just a bit longer, but Shelagh had already left.
Patrick sighed. Since he had been working with her on their TB proposal he kept thinking about her at odd hours of day or night. He even imagined conversations he might have with her about a case at work or alone at home, going over his day.
It was not just loneliness, he had come to understand. Living with his young son, he missed having adult conversations, apart from those at work. And it wasn't just the talking but the unique insights and her mostly hidden but clearly appealing humour he had come to appreciate.
He began to realize that he did not just think of her as a friend. He suddenly seemed to care for the way her nose wrinkled when she smiled or her surprising him with that rather bold remark about faith just now. And he admired her beauty. He had always thought her rather beautiful, but only recently he wondered how her skin might feel under the touch of his fingers or whether her eyes could change shades according to her mood.
He even began noticing details of her wardrobe, he who could not tell an appropriate from an inappropriate tie. Such as the scarf she was wearing tonight. She had been wearing the same one that night four weeks ago, he realized, when he had last seen her, here in this same office. It was a cotton scarf with a pattern of narrow stripes of different shades of blue. He admired how the scarf brought out the blue of her eyes.
Patrick shook himself out of his contemplation. He needed to go through those papers in front of him quickly, or else there would be another quarrel with Timothy at night. He was already in danger of running late.
Shelagh returned to the dining room where everyone else was already sitting at the table, waiting for her. She had always enjoyed the spirit of community at Nonnatus Mission expressed through the shared meals. She regretted though, at this particular moment, that she had declined Doctor Turner's invitation to have coffee with him. Shelagh sat down and helped herself to some soup from the bowl in the middle of the table.
Why would she feel disappointed about sitting here with her colleagues and friends rather than sharing coffee with the doctor? She held him in high esteem as a colleague but she never before had felt the need to get to know him outside their professional realm.
She took a sip of her tea and tried to focus on other things when Cynthia asked: "Shelagh, may I ask a favour of you?"
"Of course," Shelagh replied, startled out of her thoughts.
"Is it possible that you cover the family planning session at KCMC in two weeks time? I just received an invitation to present our programme at the District Education Office, something I have been waiting for for ages."
"Yes, I can do that. It is Wednesday afternoon, right?"
"Yes, 3 pm," Cynthia replied.
Shelagh took in a deep breath and helped herself to some more soup. She liked keeping herself busy and this would help her to focus on what mattered most to her, her work. Nothing else.
But later that night, she still was not able to turn her mind away from Dr Turner and his aura of weariness. Shelagh had retreated to her room in the Nurses' Quarter, a one-story building with a corrugated iron roof like all others built on the premises of the mission.
The building was located in the quiet back of the compound. It had six bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and a comfortable living room. Shelagh shared it with Trixie, Patience and Cynthia. The two vacant rooms were occasionally used as guest rooms. While the nurses generally shared the meals with the Sisters, they often spent their evenings in their own living room. They loved watching the latest films on DVDs bought as pirate copies at local market stalls or, sometimes, legal copies sent from caring friends and family back home.
This particular night Shelagh had not felt like watching with the others. She lay on her bed and listened to the sounds of the night: the chirping of the cicadas in the garden, the occasional cracking sounds of the corrugated iron roof and the muffled laughter from her colleagues in the living room. Every few minutes, a strong breeze made the leaves of the trees outside rustle.
Though the sun would cause rather hot temperatures during daytime, Moshi was located at an altitude where it cooled down at night. With dawn, there usually began the chase between the warm and cool layers of air, causing a refreshing wind blowing through town.
On other nights when she did not feel like having company, Shelagh might have listened to the news on either BBC World Service or BBC Swahili or read a novel, but tonight it calmed her to just listen to the concert going on in the garden.
Shelagh had joined Nonnatus Mission almost ten years ago, just after finishing her training as a nurse and midwife in London. When she had heard Sister Julienne speak at a charity event, introducing Nonnatus Mission and their overseas work, she instantly knew that this was what she wanted to do.
Shelagh's father had been a missionary and she had spent the first eight years of her life in Malawi. After her mother had died, Shelagh and her father had returned to Scotland. She had never deliberately intended to return to an African country – but while listening to Sister Julienne speaking passionately about Nonnatus Mission's work, something inside her fell into place. Shelagh was fascinated by their innovative approach to caring for mothers and infants in resource-poor areas of the world and she knew instantly that this was what she was called to do.
As per policy of Nonnatus Mission, overseas staff had to have at least five years of professional experience. Thus, Sister Julienne referred Shelagh to Nonnatus House, a home for young mothers living in difficult circumstances in Poplar, London. There, Shelagh had been in charge of the antenatal services, a low-threshold intervention catering for pregnant, unmarried girls and women afraid of turning to state authorities.
She also had worked part-time at The London Hospital to gain work experience as a midwife. After exactly five years, she had applied for a transfer to an African country. Luckily, just then, Sister Julienne had been looking for a new outreach coordinator for the Moshi mission.
Since her very first days at Nonnatus House, Shelagh had considered joining the order of St. Raymond Nonnatus. She had been on retreat at the Mother House in Chichester several times, praying with the Sisters and having counselling sessions with the Mother Superior. Yet, both her father and Sister Julienne, with whom she stayed in contact after their first meeting, had suggested she should wait a few more years to make the final decision. While they did not doubt her calling, both, experienced in religious life, wanted her to get to know herself better as an adult to be entirely certain she made the right decision.
Right now, lying on her bed in the Nurses' Quarter in Moshi, Shelagh sighed deeply. She had increasingly been feeling an inner unrest for the past few months, but was unable to detect its cause. She wondered whether God might be suggesting that it was time to finalize her decision to join the order.
Shelagh was certain that it was not her work that caused this strange kind of distress. She did what she loved. But perhaps she was not sufficiently committed. Perhaps as a religious Sister she would be able to do even more good. Her life would follow certain rules, allowing her to focus on her work, hopefully putting an end to this unrest that was becoming a worry to her.
Shelagh wondered what Dr Turner might say if he knew about her plan. His words "Some of your faith perhaps," replayed in her head a few times, until she startled at her thoughts. Why would she think of Dr Turner of all people now?
He was rather handsome, she thought, slightly blushing. Not exactly young anymore, at least fifteen years older than her. She faintly remembered his very distinct scent, one that she had come to recognize over the past months working a little closer with him. She swallowed hard. It was inappropriate to think about him this way.
Shelagh had always liked the doctor's friendly and respectful manner. But ever since their joint work on the TB programme, she had come to truly appreciate his kindness. Moreover, she had begun to gain a few glimpses behind his normally jovial façade. She liked how much he cared about his son and had learned how much he struggled to balance his responsibilities as a father with that of his demanding work while always feeling so very guilty. Occasionally the grief over his late wife's death and his loneliness surfaced and touched her heart.
Shelagh had never thought of any man as interesting. Her friends back at college kept making fun of her being so uptight. And when she had announced she would take up a post with Nonnatus Mission, no one had truly been surprised. Some had even commented that she soon would become a nun which would not change anything about her lifestyle save for her wearing a habit. They had been so correct, Shelagh thought.
Everything had been so easy back then when she had graduated. She had clearly seen her path in front of her. But now, she felt confused. And why would she think about Dr Turner outside of work anyway? Now and here certainly was neither right nor appropriate. As per Nonnatus Mission workplace policy, Dr Turner was considered a partner since he and the mission had signed a partnership agreement. Thus, a personal relationship was out of the question – but this was not what she wanted anyway. Her work and making a difference in people's lives were what mattered to her.
She needed to see Sister Julienne, she decided. She needed counselling and she needed to start the procedure to become a postulant. This would put her mind at peace.
