Thanks for all the continued encouragement - a little nervous about this one, not sure if it's too sentimental - please tell me what you think!
At around seven o'clock Dr Turner excused himself to pick Timothy up from Cubs, and nearly got run down by Fred who was racing back to Nonnatus in his Arkala uniform. He looked like an excitable overgrown school boy. "Timothy's waiting at the hall, he said he'd tidy up, the good boy. He told me the news, oh it'll be so nice to see Sister Bernadette home again, just like old days."
"Did Timothy not tell you, she's not Sister Bernadette anymore," smiled the doctor, checking his watch, and making to leave. "I've got to go Fred, I'm late for Timothy, as you know." He raised his hand and rushed away.
"'Ere, hang on a tick! What d'you mean she's not Sister Bernadette anymore?"
"You'll find out!" came the distant reply from an elated Patrick; this had been the best day he'd had in a very long while.
Later on, after having extracted no real explanation from an exhausted Shelagh as to why she was leaving the order, Fred skulked off to fix the hot water boiler, which had broken again under the pressure of so many rounds of celebratory tea. The midwives were also beginning to get frustrated with their perplexing friend - what had caused this sudden change of heart? Surely, as her closest companions, they deserved to know.
When the clock in the hall struck eight, Shelagh decided after all the excitement of her day it was high time she was in bed. There was a general protest, but Sister Julienne came to the rescue.
"Yes, you must get some rest, after all you are home to convalesce. We've fixed up your old room for now."
"Thank you Sister." Shelagh smiled shyly and made her exit. As soon as the tap of her shoes on the parquet floor had faded away, the midwives pounced on Sister Julienne.
"Sister, what is going on? First she's going to Chichester, now she's back here and without the habit, it's all simply too unreal!"
Sister Julienne checked them firmly. "That is not for me to say. Our dear friend will tell in her own time." And before the girls had the chance to even take a breath, she quickly added, "and that is not a cue for you to press her tonight after lights out, either." She raised her eyebrows serenely; she knew what her young charges were like - curiosity, and a compulsion to gossip, was in their very nature. Sure enough, when the older inhabitants of Nonnatus House were all safely ensconced in their rooms, Shelagh was interrupted from her prayers by a purposeful knock on the door.
"Can we come in?" came a whisper, the owner of which barely waited for a reply before creeping in anyway.
"Nurse Franklin, what can I do for you. Oh, and Nurse Lee, and Nurse Miller. And Jane as well, my goodness" breathed Shelagh, before adding sardonically, "this is a surprise." She got up from where she was kneeling beside the bed, and hastily grabbed her dressing gown and glasses.
"We've come for an explanation," exclaimed Trixie, gaining herself an elbow in the side from Jenny; their plan was certainly not to start as boldly as that.
"Well really," Trixie continued, "we can't go on like this without even knowing what we're supposed to call you. We couldn't be happier to have you back home, but you must admit an explanation is in order."
"You're right," murmured Shelagh, considering how to confide in her friends without giving too much away. "I have come to the conclusion that being a nun is no longer God's plan for me. I think he wants me to fulfil my purpose in other areas of life. There are things - different things I can offer." Her reply was rather cryptic; the girls were certain there was something she was not letting on. "And my real name is Shelagh," she finished, her face lifting at the thought of the new potential this name would bring. She enjoyed saying it after so many years of carrying a religious pseudonym. And she particularly enjoyed it when a certain person said it to her.
"Alright Shelagh," grinned Trixie, her impatience vanishing at how much peace the former nun had obviously now found, "grilling over."
"Good," interjected the ever-caring Cynthia. "I'm sorry for us being so nosy."
"I'm not!" pouted Trixie.
"It's just all so exciting," sighed Jenny, taking Shelagh's hand. "I always thought that maybe you sometimes wished you could join in, and we could never ask you. Am I right?" Shelagh nodded rather timidly.
"Well then, we'd better invade your room again sometime soon," grinned Trixie.
"If you must," Shelagh yawned happily, shooing them out the door. "But if I don't get my sleep now, I'll tell the nuns you were sneaking about after hours."
"Enough said," whispered Trixie, "but remember, you're one of us now, so that puts an end to snitching!"
One of us repeated Shelagh to herself in her head as she drifted off to sleep. Could the day possibly have been any better?
A sudden influx of births saw Doctor Turner spending the next two days rushed of his feet, devotedly attending to the needs of the women of Poplar. This meant he could not devotedly attend to Shelagh, as much as he was yearning to. Sister Julienne for one would not hear of her restarting her midwife's duties so soon, so the impatient Shelagh found herself confined to her room, the only thing that kept her sane being to re-read the letters Patrick had sent to the Sanatorium. She did this with great satisfaction again and again, letting the gentle messages of love flood to her heart with every revisit. Her only other distraction was the sudden mania the Cubs' impending jumble sale had created at Nonnatus. Fred, in his capacity as leader of the pack, was worried they would not have enough to sell, and announced to everyone over dinner that he was counting on them to bring along any old junk they could find. "Oh goody, can I bring Sister Monica Joan?" Sister Evangelina had muttered, and it was soon decided by many that the whole event was probably causing more trouble than it was worth.
In the end the sale was a relative success, and by overwhelming consent the money was put towards a charity which helped provide treatment for Tuberculosis sufferers, proof, if it was needed, of the affection the whole community shared for Shelagh, and a gesture which touched her tremendously. But something was to move her further still. Just before the day wound to a close, Patrick took Shelagh aside, his hand resting comfortably on her waist. "I've missed you," he said simply, his eyes shining into hers, taking her breath away.
"You would have thought after coping for several months without me when I was in the Sanatorium, a few days would be nothing," she pointed out.
"Coping is hardly the word, ask Timothy."
"Ask me what?" came a small voice from beside them. Patrick retracted his hand hastily and cleared his throat; how was it his son always managed to appear without him hearing? Shelagh smiled in amusement. The little boy would have to get used to their familiarity soon enough. Upon getting no reply, Timothy addressed Shelagh shyly: "I wanted to give you this." He held up a small plain box, and she took it.
"Is it another insect for pathological referral by any chance?" smirked Patrick, wondering what on earth the spirited boy would spring on the poor woman next.
"No, I bought this with my pocket money to say how much I like having Sis- I mean, Shelagh back," Timothy replied, eagerly. Shelagh opened the box, and blinked rapidly, her emotions threatening to spill over as she looked down at what the remarkable boy had given her. An embossed silver cross on a chain. "I thought you'd probably had to give your old wooden one back." Shelagh was lost for words - she just pulled Timothy to her and hugged him with all her might. Suddenly, Patrick had put his arms around the both of them, and for a moment the three of them were closer than they had ever been. They all knew it was perfect.
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