Thank you so much for the reviews. It means so much to hear people enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Sorry this chapter's a bit thin on the ground in terms of action, but I really wanted to establish how strange and nervous P and S would still be feeling...

Just before they reached Poplar, Timothy decided to raise the fact that he had been made half an hour late for Cubs. "I'm sorry, I really am," grimaced his father, "you thought you would just go on a quick round with me, and you ended up miles out of town - I completely forgot about this evening."

"It's alright," sighed Timothy with an air of heroism, "there was no way I could have held you up, Sister Bernadette would probably still be wandering round in the fog."

"Shelagh, Timothy," reminded Patrick, smiling over at her as she laughed nervously. After her moment of bravery in offering up her feelings to him on the road, she had become rather quiet. Shelagh was wondering what would happen next. She felt as though if they went their separate ways she would be alone and unsure again; she did not want this spell of understanding to be broken. She didn't want this car journey to ever end. But end it did. Patrick screeched up outside the church hall. "You haven't even got your uniform on!" he exclaimed, practicalities suddenly dawning on him as he returned from the blissful bubble he had been in for the last hour or so.

"Oh don't mind that dad, I'll explain to Arkala you were too busy chasing after Sis- I mean Shelagh to worry about my Cubs."

"Now don't be cheeky," reprimanded Patrick, giving his son another stare that was a mixture between a plead and a reproach. "There are plenty more test tubes to be sterilised at the surgery you know." Timothy bolted off only to return a few seconds later. Shelagh wound down her window and the high-spirited young boy leaned in familiarly.

"Oh, I just remembered, I was supposed to bring along a contribution to our jumble sale fund," he panted. Patrick looked blank. "You know, I told you about it last week. We're having a jumble sale at the weekend." His father ran his hands through his hair.

"Sorry, I do remember now, my mind's been on other things lately..." Timothy gave him a wickedly knowing grin. Both adults wondered just how much about their relationship he understood. Patrick began to fumble in his jacket pocket for some money, but Shelagh got there first, smartly snapping open her handbag and passing some coins through the window to Timothy, who thanked her with a winning smile and raced away. "Oh gosh," she thought, breathing sharply as she watched the little boy disappear into the hall. "In that moment we were so naturally like a proper family." She barely suppressed an excited grin - but when she turned back she found Patrick stationary, his hands resting on the steering wheel. He was remembering all those times he had sat alone in his car with his thoughts going back and forth like the monotonous scrape of the windscreen wipers. His expression was contented, yet the lines around his mouth and eyes were dark and creased, giving the impression he had not slept properly for a while. With a quiver of gratitude she wondered how much this was down to her. "Patrick?" she whispered tentatively after a while, the name playing ardently on her lips in a way she never thought a name could. Patrick started and apologised for being in such a state, agitatedly starting the engine and instinctively making for Nonnatus House. Their destination was only just round the corner, and the minutes passed in a charged silence until the engine purred to a halt and Patrick turned to Shelagh intently.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he said suddenly. "I thought you would be gone and I'd have never said those things, never shown you how much you mean to me." Shelagh silenced him gently with a touch of his arm.

"Patrick, please," she murmured. "You don't think you were the only one who felt that panic? I have been wanting to tell you for months that I return your feelings, but it seemed impossible and all the time I was wondering if I'd ever see any of my friends again." Patrick creased his face in concern, placing his hand on top of hers in an innocent gesture of comfort. "But it's all over now. 'Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past' as the good Lord said." He smiled, this religious guidance suddenly reminding him of Shelagh's past as a nun. He still found her sitting there in normal clothes with her hair bringing out her prettiest features slightly surreal, and couldn't imagine he would get used to it all too soon. It was too good to be true.

"Yes," he sighed heavily in relief. "It is all over now. You are totally healed and I have no words to express how glad that makes me."

"Well, not totally healed," laughed Shelagh, her eyes gleaming, "this scar of mine has still not completely gone away." She released her hand from his arm and held it perfectly steady in between them. He took it in his and slowly traced a circle on her palm. The lightness of his touch made her skin tingle in a way she had not felt since that day by the sink after the three-legged race. Only this time she let him kiss her hand without snatching it away, and they remained like that, with his lips brushing her fingers, then her palm, before pressing into her wrist. Shelagh felt a small sigh escape her as her whole body revelled in this beautiful and strangely intimate gesture.

All of a sudden, a great crash resounded from above them and they broke away with pounding hearts. Sister Evangelina was standing in the doorway of Nonnatus house, staring at the couple with an impenetrable expression. How much had she seen? But Shelagh and Patrick couldn't worry for long. Suddenly there was everyone, beaming, running down the steps to welcome their friend home, swarming like gannets clamouring around the car. Shelagh let herself out, and as she stepped into the sunlight a collective gasp broke from the stunned midwives. "I'm home!" she smiled nervously, waiting desperately for the first response.

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