The next morning Patrick woke with a spring in his step. He bounced down the stairs, waltzed across the living room and sauntered into the kitchen to where Shelagh was making breakfast. Creeping up behind her, he grabbed her hips, spun her round and planted a kiss on her lips, his hands finding their way up her back, round the back of her neck and into her hair.
"Patrick," Shelagh half-giggled when they broke their embrace, "what are you up to?"
"Ah, it's a beautiful day, you are a beautiful woman, and I am a happy man" he replied dreamily, "ooooh eggs on toast, excellent!"
Patrick's cheerfulness carried on throughout the day, nothing could dampen his excitement about the plan he had plotted the previous evening. He re-arranged his morning rounds so that he could make a detour to the Passport Office to collect the forms for the travel documents that he thought they would need. The young girl at the office seemed rather confused but slightly intrigued as to why a family of four would suddenly need documents for everywhere he wanted, but she was helpful and found all Patrick required.
When he returned to the surgery he set about making a series of telephone calls. He began with a ferry company, inquiring about the details of their night crossings that weekend and provisionally booked a cabin for that Sunday night from Southampton. He then telephoned Chummy, inquiring whether he could borrow some of the Cub's camping gear. Next, he spoke to three other local GP's, to arrange cover for his patients and the ante-natal clinic. Finally he called Nonnatus House. He spoke firstly to Sister Julienne, telling her that he had been able to get some time off to go on a family holiday. She seemed thrilled, though perhaps, he thought, she would have been less thrilled if she found out about his small white lie. He then asked to speak to Jenny to see whether she would be willing to run Poplar Choral Society in Shelagh's absence. She readily agreed, and would ask Cynthia to act as temporary accompanist.
Back at the surgery, he filled in his and the children's forms, his hands shaking so much with excitement that he wondered whether there would be any hope of the Passport Office being able to read what he had written. With all this in place, he re-arranged his afternoon rounds so that he could meet Chummy to collect a tent, three sleeping bags, a camping stove and a nest of saucepans from the Community Centre, before he went home.
Patrick arrived home to find Timothy sat at the table putting the finishing touches to a new Airfix model and Shelagh sat on the sofa, the baby just finishing her feed.
"Hello Dad!" said Timothy, "how has your day been?"
"Tickerty-boo and marvellous," Patrick said with a sway and a swagger, throwing his hat casually onto the table and his coat onto a peg, "couldn't be better."
"Hello darling," Shelagh said getting up to kiss him, "I'm just about to start dinner."
"Actually, I need you to do something else first," Patrick said, handing her the Passport form, "I've already done mine and the children's and they need them back tomorrow so they'll be ready for the weekend."
Patrick watched Shelagh's eyes as she scanned the form on her hand. They suddenly widened when she realised what it was.
"Passport! What do I need a Passport for? And the weekend, what's happening at the weekend?"
"Are we going on holiday?" piped up Timothy excitedly from the table.
Patrick grinned, Shelagh looked horrified.
"Not exactly Tim, more of an adventure. We are going away for a while, not sure how long for, as long as it takes I suppose."
Whilst Timothy grinned back at his father, Shelagh looked on the verge of slapping him across the face.
"What on earth are you thinking?" she shouted "What about work? The baby? All her things, the pram, the cot? We just can't go gallivanting off now we have a baby! What about the choir?" She paused to draw breath. "When were you going to tell me?"
"Oooh, erm, right about now actually," Patrick said grinning mischievously, and pretending to look at his watch, "we only decided last night. And anyway, everything is in order. I've arranged cover and Jenny and Cynthia are…"
"We? Who's we?" Shelagh interrupted.
"Us!" Patrick replied, taking the baby from Shelagh "We had a lovely long chat about it last night, didn't we sweetie?"
"And I suppose you want me to believe it was all her idea!" Shelagh snapped; a fiery anger raging in her eyes. "What is this madness?"
"Actually it was," Patrick said quietly, his jovial tone faded and his face fell. Suddenly Shelagh realised that she had upset him and he was being deadly serious, though she could neither fathom what he was planning nor explain his rationale. "And no Shelagh, this is no madness, I have never been saner or more certain of anything, not since the day I asked you to marry me."
Shelagh flushed scarlet.
"There are things I need to see, places I need to go. Places that I need you all to see," he finished.
Taking her hands in his spare hand he said.
"Now, answer me truthfully, do you love me?"
"Patrick, don't be…"
"Look me in the eye, and answer me."
Her topaz-blue eyes met his umber-brown.
"Yes Patrick."
"And do you trust me?"
"Yes Patrick."
"In that case, do as I tell you, come where I take you, and do not stop me."
"Where are we going? And why so suddenly?"
"You told me you trusted me. I will tell you where we are going on the way, and why when we get there. Now please, you do the forms and I'll start dinner."
She nodded in response, found a pen and sat at the table next to Timothy and began to write.
The next morning Patrick took the completed paperwork to the Passport Office. While he waited, he went round the shops and bought boxes and tins of non-perishable food, boxes of matches, plenty of Henleys, and sufficient toiletries, washing soap and nappies. Thinking about Shelagh's concerns about not having the pram, he had called into Nonnatus House and Sister Julienne had shown him how to make a baby sling from a long piece of material. He had also been to the bank and exchanged a wad of pound notes for various amounts of five different currencies. He returned to the house with four shiny new passports and called the ferry company again to confirm the provisional reservation which he had made for that Sunday night. He told Shelagh and Timothy to begin packing anything they wanted to take with them, warning them that they would have to travel light.
"There's not that much room in the car!"
Meanwhile, he went into the loft and began rooting around. He found a wickerwork picnic basket, complete with four sets of blue crockery and cutlery and a tartan blanket; a pair of old, canvas rucksacks; and a leather pouch containing a compass and a Swiss Army knife. He brought them all downstairs and put the basket and the pouch into the boot of the car which the camping gear. He left the rucksacks, half open, on the living room floor. He assembled a first aid kit and found his old thermos flask. He went to the shed and found a length of rope, a jerry can and a bucket, and added the lot to the boot. He returned to find Shelagh and Timothy in the sitting room, each holding an odd assortment of clothes and shoes. They looked at each other, and then at Patrick, wondering whether what they had collected the right things. Patrick read their expressions.
"Those will be fine," Patrick said, "as long as they fit in here," he finished, picking up the rucksacks.
With a bit of a squeeze, and Timothy sitting on them, they managed to get four people's worth of clothes into the two canvas bags. These were then added to the now very-full boot. Patrick could not stop smiling, and Timothy was getting more and more excited, but Patrick could tell that Shelagh was apprehensive. After they had had a fish-and-chip supper and settled the children into bed, Patrick and Shelagh sat together on the sofa. Shelagh snuggled into Patrick, but did not say anything.
"Shall I make us a mug of Horlicks each?" Patrick said after a few minutes.
"Since when have you drunk Horlicks?" Shelagh asked.
"Since yesterday, I've bought plenty to take with us."
"Is that supposed to make everything alright?"
Patrick put his arm round her and kissed the top of her head.
"I thought that was what Horlicks was put on this earth for!"
He then started laughing. Shelagh poked him in the ribs.
"Stop it you, I'm worried about this."
"I know you are, and you have every right to be, but trust me."
"I do."
"Well that's alright then. Right, Horlicks!"
Sunday came and the Turners prepared to leave the house. Shelagh was desperately trying to check and double check that they had everything, but Patrick and Timothy's excitement and enthusiasm made it difficult to concentrate, so she gave up trying. After lunch, they got into the car. Patrick drove, Timothy sat in the front and Shelagh and the baby in her Moses basket were in the back. They wound their way out of the suburbs of London and were soon out on the open road. After a few hours, Shelagh said.
"You said you would tell us where we were going on the way, so where we are going?"
"Southampton," Patrick replied.
"And why are we going to Southampton?"
"Ah, I said I wouldn't tell you that until we got there!" Patrick chuckled.
Timothy snorted and looked round to see a very miffed look on his mother's face. Patrick saw her reflection in the rear view mirror, and emulated Timothy's snort.
"Patrick!"
"I'll tell you when we get there!"
He chuckled to himself as he heard a "humph" from the back seat, then returned his thoughts to the road and the long journey they had ahead of them.