Spring had sprung and the memories of the harsh winter faded with each sunny day sandwiched between rainy days. Shelagh was enjoying her new garden almost as much as Angela. Teddy was growing and Shelagh marveled at just how happy he was. Rarely did he have a crying jag even when he surprised them all be popping out two little teeth just shy of five months. Shelagh suspected that with such a busy household, he was too enthralled to be fussy.

The only worry Shelagh had was for Timothy. She knew he was feeling the pressure of his upcoming O levels. She may not have given birth to two of her children, but she felt their joy, pain and stress like any mother. She knew Timothy was a good student and would do fine. She was concerned with the pressure he put on himself.

He seemed to spend more and more time in his room. She missed him when they gathered in the evening. She knew Angela missed him. Tim needed to only look at Teddy and the baby would give a drooly grin showing his little razor sharp teeth.

Timothy did take a break from his revising a bit on weekend evenings. With the weather better, he was out with friends...Doing what? Shelagh wasn't sure.

She spoke to Patrick about it, but he was more amused than concerned. When Shelagh pressed him he said, "Shelagh, you shouldn't worry so. Timothy knows right from wrong. That group he runs with is not running around stealing or damaging property."

"Of course not Patrick, but there are other things they could be up to," she added, "They could be smoking or drinking."

"You know as well as I do Tim will never smoke. As for drinking, the only risk there is that he gets little sick. He's had beer be…" Patrick abruptly stopped.

"What did you just say?" Shelagh asked a bit sharply.

"We had a drink together last summer…"

"Patrick Turner!"

"Shelagh, it was while you were in St. Cuthbert's and Tim was upset that I wouldn't talk to him. He had some crazy notion that men only talk to each other in the pub. It was the first night he visited you. So I stopped at the off license on my way home and bought two bottles of ale. It was a father and son thing. Please don't be terribly angry with me," he pleaded.

"I'm not angry...just a bit surprised. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We were too busy worrying...It didn't seem like the right time," he answered.

"What about girls? Do you think he is meeting up with someone?"

"Possibly. Remember the bassoon!" Patrick laughed.

"How could I forget! Should we worry about a girl?"

"Shelagh, 'we' shouldn't worry, because worrying seems to be your hobby. Also because we have taught Timothy to be respectful of the fairer sex."

"What about hormones?"

"Darling the only hormones I'm concerned about are yours and mine," he said as he leaned over and kissed her. It was Saturday night…

Patrick was waiting up for Timothy when he came home.

"Son, mum is concerned about what you're up to out there. Tell me something so she won't worry."

"Dad, we're just hanging out down by the football pitch."

"Is 'we' boys and girls?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm glad I taught you to be respectable and that you know the consequences of those who aren't," and under his breath he added to get his point across, "Angela."

"Dad! I know!"

Shelagh came down and said, "Oh good Tim, you're home."

Patrick watched as she went to hug him and he was sure smell him.

"Mum, I've only been gone a few hours, not a week!" Tim complained as he uncomfortably allowed her embrace.

Later Patrick asked, "So did you smell anything?"

"No beer...maybe perfume, but I couldn't be sure."

Tim continued his revision and his weekend outings and Shelagh continued to worry. Patrick took it all in stride until the day he couldn't any longer.

It was a rainy Saturday evening and so Timothy was at home upstairs. The rest of the family was gathered downstairs. Patrick was reading the latest edition of The Lancet while Angela played. Patrick would stop and mention interesting items to Shelagh who was feeding Teddy. They were enjoying their exchange, when the doorbell rang.

Jumping up, Patrick ran to the door.

"Nurse Crane come in, it's wet out there."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Turner, but you're needed for an emergency. We rang you, but there must be something wrong with your line," she explained.

Quickly putting on his coat and grabbing his bag, he said, "Shelagh check the phone line." and he was gone.

Shelagh needed only to lift the receiver to know that their telephone was in perfect working order. Apparently Timothy was not in his room with his books, but rather on the extension in hers and Patrick's room.

Taking the well feed baby she quietly went upstairs. She walked into her room to find him sitting on the floor leaning against the bed with the receiver in his hand.

Quickly he said, "I got to go." and hung up.

"Timothy! Do you have any idea the trouble you've caused? There was an emergency and your father couldn't be reached because you were tying up the line!"

"Sorry. I didn't think."

"Well I certainly won't argue with that point. I can't keep this from your father. Now if you have so much free time go play with Angela. She misses you," Shelagh said quite crossly.

Patrick came back and asked if the telephone line was sorted out.

"Yes, it was in perfect working order. Apparently someone had been on it all evening!"

Patrick's face changed to one of anger, Shelagh hoped he didn't wake the little ones when he hollered, "Timothy!"

As spring wore on into summer, Shelagh continued to worry, because that's what mums do. One thing she needn't worry about was their telephone line being tied up. Tim had learned his lesson.