Instead of Fanfic Friday we're going with Fanfic Thursday this week, because I won't be here on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. So, rather than let you guys wait for a long time, I'll give you this week's chapter a day early.
Shelagh Turner came to Nonnatus two weeks after she was married.
Sister Julienne hadn't been at the wedding. She'd only known about it because Doctor Turner had to ask a locum to cover for him, and because of the wedding band he now wore on his hand. She was formal with him, painfully so. Whenever she saw him, shock and hurt and anger tore through her. She had thought him a good man, once. Hadn't her sweet sister told her that he was nothing if not a good man?
But maybe they'd already seduced each other by that point, Sister Julienne thought wryly, and had to turn her face from him for fear that he'd see the waves of emotions wash over her countenance.
It had been easier not to talk about it. Wasn't that why she had only spoken a handful of gentle words of reassurance to Shelagh after she'd fainted? She'd held her small, cold hand, and thought: Maybe I'll never hold it again, after this.
She almost reached for Shelagh's hand, now that her former sister stood before her, looking pale and frail. Shelagh wore a jumper that was slightly too big for her, obscuring her growing belly. She touched the stretching flesh protectively. "Sister, I have to speak with you," she said.
Sister Julienne hated herself for how desperate she was to hear the other woman talk. But what if there was an explanation for this bizarre situation they'd found themselves in? She gave a curt nod, and escorted Shelagh to her office.
She went to the kitchen to make them tea, trying to get her trembling hands under control.
Why am I so upset? I've seen countless of women who made love before marriage, and I never judged them. She'd asked herself this question day after day, prayer after prayer, and was still no closer to an answer. She took a tablet with rattling china like loose teeth to her office.
"Do you drink milk in your tea again?" she asked.
Shelagh nodded. She cradled her cup with two hands, eyes trained on the pale liquid. "Doctor Turner thought it might be a good idea to go away for a little while," she said.
"You didn't have a honeymoon, I suppose," Sister Julienne said.
"It's not that, Sister," Shelagh whispered. "He thought it would be better for… us." Her eyes flicked to her belly.
Judging by her belly she's five months along already. She must… It must have happened before the sanatorium, or maybe in her first weeks there. Oh, God, how could she stray from Your path so?
"He said Liverpool might be a good place," Shelagh continued.
"For how long?"
"A year, maybe two. Maybe for… longer."
"Why have you come to me? You have your husband now to ask for advice." She had to look at her hands to make sure they were still flesh and bone; her voice had been so cold she'd been afraid to find herself transformed into ice, or stone.
Shelagh looked up and bit her lip. There were violet smears under her eyes, like bruises. "I don't want to go. It wouldn't be right. We'd have to uproot Timothy. The poor boy has lived here all his life, and…"
"What do you think his friends and their relatives will say when they find out how far along you are?" Sister Julienne snapped.
Shelagh flinched. Her eyes shimmered liquid in the low light of the overhead lamp. "I've told Patrick I want to stay. He has agreed with my decision, but wanted me to talk to you. He wanted me to ask your support, because surely I don't have enough strength of my own to go through all of this."
So you didn't come here of your own accord, Sister Julienne thought, hurt and bitterness coating her throat till her voice came out as a hoarse, strangled sound, not like her own voice at all. "I see." She poured herself a new cup of tea so she wouldn't have to look at her former sister. "I'm quite at a loss here, Mrs. Turner. I don't know what you expect me to do."
Shelagh bit her lip again. It was flaky, dry. "I'm not asking you to understand my decision, but… you told me I'd always have the support of Nonnatus. I wondered what had happened to that promise."
Anger sizzled along Sister Julienne's nerves. She curled her hands in her lap. "I made that promise when I thought you were merely in love with the doctor. If I had known you'd bedded him, had known he had seduced you…"
Two spots of colour burned in Shelagh's cheeks. She looked like a painted doll. "That's not how it happened."
"Then tell me how it did happen. I'm trying to understand, but I can't comprehend any of it. How could you, a nun, willingly break your vow of chastity?"
"I couldn't…" She shook her head, hand splaying on her belly. She bit her lip again. It split. A drop of blood welled from the cut. She wiped it away with her handkerchief, crimson on white. "It was an act of love. I was hurting, and he was hurting, and we drew comfort from each other. I was a woman…"
"You were a nun! Your comfort should have come from God, and from your sisters."
Is that why I'm so hurt? Because she chose Doctor Turner over me? Sister Julienne thought. She pushed it away.
"I'm not going to apologise for what happened," Shelagh said. "I can't apologise when I don't feel sorry. I can't…"
Sister Julienne blinked, trying not to feel as if she'd just been slapped. "You're not sorry?" She laughed, throaty and horrible. "You've lied and deceived and broken every vow you've sworn to uphold, and you're not sorry? You are not the woman I thought you were, then. It seems you've deceived me in more ways than one. I always thought Sister Bernadette a good person. Shelagh Turner, however, seems to be… very proud."
Shelagh's liquid eyes froze over. "I didn't choose the path you thought out for me. I'm sorry if I hurt you with that decision, but I'm not sorry for loving Patrick and Timothy. I'm not sorry about this child. It was love. I thought that you, of all people, would understand. I thought I could at least draw strength from you."
"What do you think this will do to Nonnatus' reputation? It's not just you I have to think about. It seems to me you have become very selfish over these past few months," Sister Julienne growled.
"You helped dozens and dozens of unmarried women have their children!"
"But none of them were nuns." None of them were you.
"No, but some of them were teachers, or daughters of clergymen, and…"
"You don't have to tell me my resumé," Sister Julienne snapped.
"He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone," Shelagh quoted, wringing her handkerchief between her fingers. Another drop of blood welled from her cut lip. It was very vivid against her pale lips.
"Don't you dare talk to me about what the Lord said!" Sister Julienne spat, voice strange and pinched. "You lost that right when you decided to have… improper relations with Doctor Turner!"
Shelagh coloured a little. "That still doesn't give you the right to judge me. You're not my Mother Superior anymore. You are not my mother!"
"No, but I thought I was your friend! It seems I was mistaken."
Shelagh pressed her handkerchief against her face, wiping away the blood from her mouth and the tears from her cheeks. "I see. I see how you've come to think about me." She stood and placed her cup back on its saucer with trembling hands. "It was a mistake to come here. I see you want to wash your hands of me."
No. I want you to come back to me like you were.
I want to stop spouting my venom.
I want to hold your hand again.
Sister Julienne couldn't speak.
"Thank you for the tea," Shelagh murmured, putting on her gloves and coat. "I don't think I'll come here again. We might go to Liverpool after all."
Stay! I'm sorry, Sister Julienne's heart cried out. "You must do what you think fit," she said. "After all, I'm not your spiritual mentor anymore."
"No," Shelagh whispered. Then, she was gone.
Sister Julienne folded her hands. She tried to pray to keep her tears at bay, but they came anyway. Her feelings would not be denied, no matter how hard she tried.
Maybe that was what it was like for Sister Bernadette. Maybe it was something bigger than her.
But surely she could've waited till she'd renounced her vows? And why had she not sought comfort amongst her sisters?
And now she never will, thanks to your harsh words.
"But she didn't even want to apologise," Sister Julienne whispered.
You once thought it wise to reserve judgement at all costs. You once thought that no matter what had passed between your sister and Doctor Turner, she was still the same person. You once thought it was not your place as a nun to condemn.
Maybe you're struggling as much with parts of the religious life as Sister Bernadette did.
"I just want her back," Sister Julienne said, "But how can I get her back after all we've just said?"
Maybe she's not the only one who dances with pride.
She buried her face in her hands and cried.