Shelagh was quiet the whole way to the hospital. She never said a word. Too lost in her thoughts and memories. Timothy had gone to Nonnatus with Angela whilst they went to see Abigail.
It had been so many years.
Shelagh's mind went back to when she was 14. She had always been a quiet child, a good girl, very much a daddy's girl as her mother had passed away when she was merely 6 years old. She'd been shy around people her own age so spent a lot of time with him and other adults in the small Scottish village who her father spoke to.
Andrew McCall was a music composer and her father's best friend. He and his wife had taken a liking to Shelagh having no children of their own. They were very rich and it was Andrew's wife, Colette that first made her think about becoming a nurse being one herself.
Despite her shyness she was a happy child, she tried to see the bright side in any situation...but then her father died and she was left an orphan aged 16. She was lost for a while. She spent time living with Andrew and his wife whilst she trained as a nurse, they were very kind to her and she was grateful.
As well as the others reasons she had told herself she joined the order because she was afraid. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was still a 6 year old girl sat on her own waiting for her Dad to come home work, wondering where Mummy was. The thought of another person feeling such loss hurt her terribly. That's why she wanted to spend her life helping others. Being a nun meant she had her sisters, being a midwife and nurse meant she was doing some good in the world.
She'd only been part of the order a few months when she got the letter to tell her Colette had passed away. She felt awful. She'd not kept in touch with them as much as she had liked. She'd gone to visit Andrew immediately and he was lost, but he had an idea how he could find his way again.
He'd wanted to adopt a child, he wanted someone who he could leave his estate to, wanted someone to share his life with. So he did. He adopted a baby girl and named her Abigail and raised her alone.
Shelagh had returned back to her sisters and continued with her life, writing and receiving a letter maybe a few times a year from someone who was like family to her.
By the time she'd left the order it was rare they spoke, she'd not written in a long time, time moved on and so did people. She'd always thought about going and visiting but the idea of going back to Scotland worried her. Too many memories surrounded that village, not all she'd like to remember.
She wondered why he hadn't written to say he would be living in Poplar, he knew that's where she still lived at least. Maybe he'd forgotten?
Abigail would be 13 now...and she was an orphan.
"Are you alright?" Patrick asked his wife as they entered the hospital.
"I'll explain when I'm certain Abigail's health is okay."
He knew when she'd mentioned the young girl's father being a friend of her Dad's this wouldn't be easy for her. She rarely spoke of her childhood. He didn't know why and never asked. Maybe that was wrong of him?
"The girl will be fine." A doctor told them. "She's asking for you both, says she needs to apologise to you."
Shelagh and Patrick followed him to the ward where Abigail say on the edge of the bed. the ward was empty bar one young woman sleeping and a nurse.
"My dad is dead...isn't he...?" Abigail looked at them both a lump forming in her throat.
"I'm so sorry." Patrick said not being able to look the girl in the eye.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you...I was scared..." She looked at Shelagh. "It's Shelagh Mannion isn't it?"
"Shelagh Turner now..."
"You knew my father...he spoke about you often."
Shelagh sighed. "I've not seen him in a long time."
"He was very fond of you, kept of photo of you and your dad in his study from when you were about 15, he regretted losing contact..." Abigail started coughing, hitting her chest with the side of her hand.
"You should rest." Patrick told her but she shook her head.
"It's smoke inhalation. It will wear off..." Her gentle Scottish accent almost broke his heart.
It was clear to the married couple that Abigail was still in shock. She'd not yet let it sink in her father was dead.
"Father brought us to Poplar because he wanted to tell you something. Shelagh. He'd written to...is it Sister Julienne but had no reply...I guess we'll never know what he had to say..."
She tried to keep a conversation going, there were too many thoughts going around her head. What now?
"Do you have anyone you can get in contact with?" Patrick asked and once again Abigail shook her head.
"It's always been just me and my father. There's the staff at the house but that's in Scotland...we had only been here a few days..." She paused. "I wish to speak to this, Sister Julienne. I want to know if she even received my father's letter."
"Okay." Shelagh nodded. She could see Abigail was like her dad, stubborn and sharp as a pin with a stiff upper lip. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm as okay as I can be given the situation..."