'You can run all your life all mine I will chase."
"Post has arrived." Tim said as he walked in front of Patrick. "There's one for me!"
Patrick looked at some files on his desk not really listening.
"It's from Sister Bernadette! In the Sana...Sanat..."
"Sanatorium." He finished for him suddenly a lot more interested than before. She'd written to his son?
"It's a picture, called the view from my window. It says 'thank you very much for the dead butterfly. I have passed it on to the Doctors for their diagnosis'..." Tim smiled up at him.
"Go on..."
"Erm...'please thank your father for his kind letters, I will respond to them in due course.' What's that mean?"
"Sometimes it means soon, sometimes it means a bit longer. Go on, go off to school."
Tim groaned but then smiled and walked away anyway.
Patrick hoped he'd been able to hide his true reaction from his son. She had read the letters he'd written to her but she hadn't replied. Why? Then again, he thought he knew why. She was a nun and replying to him might not be something she felt comfortable doing. So where did that leave them? She did say she would reply though...maybe she was just being kind? She was like that.
He remembered the day Tim had turned up injured at the surgery and she'd stepped in and treated him in no time at all. Tim had spoken about nothing but her at tea that evening. The same after they'd won the three legged race, though he'd been a little distracted with his own thoughts about the Sister on that day.
XxX
"Sister Julienne." Sister Bernadette smiled seeing her Sister.
"My dear Sister." She saw the younger woman looked better than the last time she had visited. It had been a difficult visit as she'd told her she didn't think the religious life was the one she wanted anymore. She wanted to support what ever decision she made as she loved her dearly, almost as if she was her daughter but she didn't want to lose her either. She handed her a tin Mrs B had given her. "Almond sponge."
"Thank you." She took it before putting it on the coffee table.
"Everybody sends their regards." She held her Sister's hand.
"I had a set of X-Rays yesterday, sister and I no longer have active disease."
Sister Julienne's face lit up. "Oh I am glad."
"I'm being discharged next week to convalesce at home." She paused; many thoughts went through her mind and she remembered all the letters Dr Turner had sent her, she'd read them all. "Trouble is Sister...I'm not sure I know where my home is."
"Well until then your home is with us Your sisters."
"Could I trouble you for some clothes?"
"Have you none here?"
"Only the habit. And I don't feel able to wear that now."
She gently squeezed her Sister's hand. "If that is what you wish."
It was a long week after that. Final tests were done to make sure she was alright to be discharged. Sister Julienne sent her the case she'd handed over when she joined the order. It still contained the clothes she'd been wearing. She ran her hand over the blouse before she got ready. She was surprised everything still fitted.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't see Sister Bernadette. She saw the woman who she had been many years ago. The person she had tried to forget. Shelagh. But she was happy to be her again. Somehow seeing that person made her realise what she wanted. Who she wanted to and who she should be.
She walked to the telephone and knew who she was to call.
"Dr Tuner." He answered.
She breathed in hearing his voice for the first time in months. "I'm being discharged."