He found the keys; they got in the car and fired up the engine again. Turning the car round, Patrick took a deep breath and moved out of the sanatorium drive, turning right towards Epping Forest. They immediately drove past the bus stop, where no-one was waiting.
Patrick drove on, heading towards the ancient woodlands, dotted with open ground. It was still morning, and out here, the fog which had disappeared in Poplar several hours earlier was still lingering.
"Well, that sounded good Dad. She said when she wrote to me to thank you for your letters, and that Nurse said that she was smiling when she read them. That's good, right?" asked Timothy, trying to break the silence which was lingering heavier than the fog.
"I guess" replied his father, "but why would she leave? I told her not to."
Timothy recognised this as his dad's worried and sad voice. "Dad, don't be sad. I think she probably likes you, she seems to like me. And, I know you love mum, and I know you've been sad since she, since she died" he paused, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jumper, "but mum wouldn't want you to be sad. So we need to try and find Sister Bernadette, Dad. Before you completely fall apart" he finished, with a cheeky grin.
Patrick smiled and shook his head, what had he done to deserve such a son?
They drove on, both of them scouring the roadside for any sign of anyone, let alone the missing nun. "I can't see a thing", said Timothy after a few minutes, winding the window down, "I'm getting a better view." He moved himself so that he was leaning out of the window, able to look down the road more fully. Ordinarily he knew his dad would never let him get away with this, but he had realised that this was no ordinary day; no ordinary drive in the car with his Dad.
They drove on and the fog seemed to intensify, Patrick driving the car more slowly now, starting to panic that he had missed her, or would drive past her in his haste. The trees were beginning to thin out, where could she have gone?
"If I see her, shall I shout at her? Shall I shout 'Stop – Sister Bernadette!'?" Timothy yelled at his father, as they drove on. The wind was sweeping through Tim's hair, freezing his face, and it was getting colder. He didn't care, this was much more fun than cleaning petri dishes.
"No, leave the talking to me" Patrick replied. "This is a time for grown up talk." He shouted back. 'If I ever find her' he thought grimly. They drove on in silence, both of them earnestly perusing the horizon for the missing nun.
The trees fell back, and the forest opened up, becoming fields for a while, open ground laying either side of the road. As the car motored up a slight incline, the fog became worse – denser, colder, even harder to see through. Timmy shivered slightly, there was damp in the air and he could feel the moisture lingering in his hair.
In the car, Patrick was growing more frantic by the minute. Where could she be? Had they driven past her? Was she all right? Would this fog cause her recovery to be set back? What was he even going to say to her if they found her? He hated to think of her wandering around the countryside on her own. Mid-way through his brooding, he became aware of Timmy trying to attract his attention.
"Dad" Timmy half turned towards his dad and patted the seat of the MG, "there's a woman in the wrong clothes, and I think it's her!"
Patrick scoured the road ahead, and there, in the fog, becoming clearer now as he got closer, was the form of, well, was that her? The female figure stopped and turned towards the car. As she did so, Patrick saw the glasses she was wearing and realised it was her.
Timmy sat himself back in the car properly. "Gosh" he whispered, as much to himself as to his father.
Patrick stopped the car a few yards from her. He sat there, for what seemed like eternity, his hands gripping the wheel, his knuckles turning white. Shelagh recognised the car, and put her suitcases down.
Timmy turned his head towards his dad, who was still gripping the steering wheel as if his life depended on it. "Dad. Dad. You have to get out of the car" he urged, quietly. Patrick pulled himself together, focusing on the woman in front of him, whilst listening to the boy beside him.
"Yes, right-o, absolutely" he murmured in reply.
As Patrick turned off the engine and reached for the door, Timothy spoke up, "Oh and Dad?" Patrick turned towards him, briefly, as Timmy lifted both his hands and made two thumbs up, "Good luck!"
