Prompt 4: "Just Talk to Me"
Summary: Pre-wedding, Shelagh finally talks about something that's been bothering her.
A/N: The inspiration for this one came from a scene in Season 1 that got cut in the PBS versions (America...why?).. I'm doing a full series re-watch with the BBC cuts because I feel cheated out of what are turning out to be some FABULOUS scenes. Anyway, there's a cut subplot in 1x05 with Dr. Turner, Chummy, and a contraceptive clinic and Dr. Turner has a line in it that just begged for a Shelagh/Sister Bernadette reaction. Also I feel like there's a lot of really interesting unexplored territory with Shelagh being as devout as she is and Patrick being as scientifically minded as he is.
A/N2: Thank you ginchy-amanda, alwayssmilingsam, and MariaLujan for your lovely reviews! I'm so thrilled that you like this series and I hope you enjoy this installment!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
She honestly hadn't thought about that day in a while. Amidst the never ending chaos of Poplar health emergencies and her own personal struggles, a random day of Chummy asking for simple advice was easily pushed to the back of her mind. Now, though, with her Christmas Eve wedding only a week away, the memory had come creeping back and it wouldn't leave her alone.
Sister Bernadette stood over the autoclave, gently cleaning her instruments from the clinic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw (and heard) Chummy attempt to walk quietly into the clinical room. She appreciated the attempt not to disturb her, but the energy about the young nurse seemed troubled and Sister Bernadette was nothing if not eager to help ease other's sorrows.
"Nurse Brown, is there something I can help you with?" She asked. Chummy jumped, slightly startled and Sister Bernadette grinned.
"Oh gosh, how do you do that?" Chummy asked on edge.
"Years of silent contemplation do wonders for one's hearing." Sister Bernadette replied sweetly. "Also, while your skills as a nurse are certainly impressive, you do occasionally express a lack of subtlety."
Coming from any other nun, Chummy would've felt criticized, but Sister Bernadette had a way of stating the truth without sounding harsh or judgemental - it was why Chummy had come to her in the first place about her current predicament.
"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you Sister, but I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time." Chummy asked.
"Of course, Nurse Brown." said Sister Bernadette. "Please, sit down. I hope you don't mind my finishing up here while we talk."
"Not at all." Chummy insisted. "Actually I think it might be easier to ask these questions if you don't look at me, so this arrangement is quite fine."
Sister Bernadette looked questioningly at Chummy, but the younger nurse appeared so uncomfortable that she didn't press the odd comment. Better to let her speak in her own time.
Silence filled the room briefly until Chummy blurted out,
"Dr. Turner's asked me to run the contraceptive session."
Sister Bernadette didn't even flinch; a fact which thoroughly surprised Chummy.
"Oh, that's no matter, Nurse Brown. You've already proven in class that you possess the necessary knowledge." Sister Bernadette assured.
"Yes." Chummy agreed half-heartedly. "But, it's not the knowledge, per se, that scares one, but rather, the implications."
At this, Chummy looked down at her hands and heavily debated continuing. The truth was, she wasn't so afraid of the mechanics of marital relations - actually, they quite intrigued her. The issue lay with Dr. Turner's comment about how to approach religious concerns regarding contraception. She normally would've asked the other nurses, but she didn't feel that they would understand, but perhaps asking a nun was going too far?
"Which implications, precisely?" asked Sister Bernadette.
"Well, I suppose, and I don't wish to speak ill, I just have concerns about how to - oh bother." Chummy sighed.
Sister Bernadette finished at the autoclave and sat beside the distraught nurse.
"Chummy," Sister Bernadette began. Chummy looked up at the Sister's use of her given name, "I hope you feel that you can ask me anything you like. I may not have the answer, but there is never any harm in asking."
Chummy smiled and took a breath to reassure herself.
"It's about something Dr. Turner said." Chummy started. "Or rather, mentioned in passing." She paused. "He said he wants the mothers to understand that 'God belongs in the church, not in the marital bed' and while I see his point from a medical perspective, I'm just not sure I know how to run a clinic like that. Forgive me, Sister, but, I just don't know that it's my place to say where our Lord should be, especially in a marriage."
Sister Bernadette paused. She'd known for years that Dr. Turner's faith was nearly entirely in science and what he could see and touch, but she supposed she hadn't noticed how freely he expressed those views in front of the nurses. She also hadn't noticed until now how much his opinion didn't bother her - at least not as much as it should. She'd given the contraception session many times herself and despite the implications of the church, she had no moral qualm with it. She'd seen too many babies and broken families in harsh conditions to think any less of a woman who wanted to be careful. She also unfortunately knew that not all marriages were happy and not every woman wanted to bring a child into the world. She couldn't understand it personally, but she could certainly sympathize.
Her silence must've made Chummy horribly nervous again.
"I'm so sorry, I should never have asked." Chummy stammered.
"No, No, Chummy." She quickly reassured. "You didn't offend me in any way."
Chummy relaxed a bit.
"You actually didn't tell me very much I didn't already know." She further explained. "Dr. Turner is extremely gifted at what he does, but he has never been a man of faith, especially since losing his wife."
"But you run the contraception sessions occasionally, Sister. How do you do it?" Chummy asked earnestly.
"I do it by being honest with the mothers. That's all we can truly hope to be. No faith or lack of faith can change the facts we are presenting. As for the implications behind those facts, I rather agree with you. It is not for us to decide where our Lord belongs in anyone's life, including our own. We can only pray for guidance and trust that he will lead us where we are meant to go. After all, we are not forcing any of our patients to use contraception. The purpose of these sessions has never been to insist, but to teach. People will do what they do and it is our job as nurses to help make their decisions as safe as possible."
"I suppose that makes sense." said Chummy.
"You don't have to ever mention God in these sessions, Nurse Brown." Added Sister Bernadette. "All you have to do is give proper instruction with the facts at hand and leave the rest up to Him."
"Thank you, Sister." Chummy smiled. "I think I know what to do."
"Godspeed, Nurse Brown." Sister Bernadette said softly as Chummy left the clinical room with a determined look in her eye.
That had been over a year ago. That had been before she'd faced her doubts about her calling, before she'd admitted she might care for the local GP a little more than was appropriate, and far before she found herself contemplating a marriage bed of her own.
Her relationship with her faith had faced massive hurdles over the past six months, but for some reason, until now, she'd never considered how her relationship with faith might play directly into her relationship with Patrick. He never spoke out against anything she believed in, and in fact, he'd encouraged Timothy to join her on Sundays and even occasionally joined himself. He always did his best to attend community events associated with the church - especially if Timothy was involved - and she noticed that even though he didn't tend towards prayer himself, if he ever attended a difficult birth with any of the Sisters, he bowed his head in respect as they prayed for strength.
This was different though. Their marriage was something no one else would witness except the two of them and God, and maybe that was what made her uneasy?
'God belongs in the church, not in the marital bed.'
That might be how Patrick felt, and she might be okay with others feeling that way, but she knew that for herself, she could never feel the way he felt.
And how would Patrick feel about her saying her prayers at night and occasionally rising for lauds when she couldn't sleep? How would he feel about the fact that more and more, her conversations with God were pleas for a future child and a strong marriage (both of which were directly related to him), and how would he feel about the fact that while she didn't judge anyone for using contraception, she didn't feel she ever could?
Those were the thoughts that plagued her as she sat in the sitting room, waiting for Patrick to come down from making sure Timothy was tucked up.
His footsteps on the stairs broke through her cloudy thoughts.
"He's out like a light. I'm still convinced he would've slept through the Blitz."
Patrick nearly skipped into the living room and joined Shelagh on the couch. He knew he'd have to take her home soon, but he cherished these stolen moments they had away from the rest of the world.
He frowned in confusion.
Normally, Shelagh curled into him and they shared kisses and talked about nothing and everything, but tonight, there was a tension about her.
"Is everything alright, darling?" He asked.
Was she that obvious?
"Yes, I'm sorry, I'm just a bit tired." She answered.
He gave her a searching look and couldn't help but notice how she couldn't meet his eyes and her hand instinctively went to smooth her hair behind her ear.
"You know, you're a terrible liar." He said with a soft grin.
"What?" She asked.
"Did you know that any time you're nervous or you lie, you look at your feet and tuck your hair behind your ear?" He asked.
"How on earth do you -"
"Years of well-honed Doctor's observational skills?" He teased.
"And he's humble too." She retorted with a smile. "I'm sorry. I guess I do have things on my mind, but they're silly, I wouldn't want to trouble you."
"Shelagh, love," He took her hand, "just talk to me."
The sincerity in his eyes broke through her reservations.
"I suppose," she began slowly, "I'm finding there are things I thought I was certain about when I was a nun that I'm a bit confused about now."
"Like what?" He asked encouragingly.
Better to just bite the bullet, she figured. She closed her eyes and blurted out, not unlike Chummy in their conversation from another time,
"I feel God belongs in our marital bed." She said so fast she wasn't sure he even understood her words.
Patrick blinked for a moment, trying to process what she was saying, but honestly, he was simply confused.
"Darling, what?" He tried to ask, but words were spilling out of her now and it was all he could do to keep up.
"I know you aren't a man of faith and that has never bothered me, but there are parts of my faith that I can't let go and I don't want you to laugh at me or be angry, but I can't separate God from our marriage and I can't help that I see marital relations as a holy act and I can't help that I don't think I could bear to use contraception, but I'm terrified that you might not want more children and I don't know what to say or think, but it's just been on my mind so much and I just need you to say something now please."
Patrick took a moment to collect his thoughts and attempt to say the right thing. She was so high strung right now that he feared saying the wrong thing and sending her running.
"Shelagh," He spoke softly, "can I ask what brought all of this on?"
She looked at him finally and breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of judgement on his face. Instead, he looked at her with concern and honest confusion.
"You once told Chummy that you believed God belonged in the church, not in the marital bed." She explained.
"When?" he asked, again simply trying to gain context.
"It was a long time ago. You asked her to run the contraceptive session and she came to me for help back when I was Sister Bernadette. I had completely forgotten about it, but I guess thinking about our own...marital bed," she blushed, "it came back into my mind."
Understanding began to dawn on his face.
"Oh Shelagh, I didn't mean what I think you think I meant." said Patrick. "I was frustrated with problems I felt I couldn't fix for patients. Mother's were overrun with children they couldn't feed and many of them, as I'm sure you know, kept saying things about how their husbands refused contraception, or they were told they couldn't use it because it was a sin, but none of them ever mentioned having their own choice in the matter and that angered me. Shelagh, I fell in love with all of you, including your faith, and I never expected you to abandon such a huge part of who you are when we married. If you want faith to play a part in our marriage and in any future children we may have, that I truly hope we have, then I don't have a problem with that, but I want it to be your choice. I have nothing against religion on principle. I think...I think it just frustrates me when patients are put in danger because of their beliefs."
Shelagh felt tears prickling in her eyes, but not for the reason she expected.
She couldn't say exactly what she felt, so she hugged him tightly to her and relished in the feeling of his arms around her and the soft kisses he placed on her forehead.
Months later, after he asked her about the baby's night dress she was making, she came home one night to a new spool of bright yellow thread and a note on her pillow that read "I hope for it every night as well, my love. Xoxo"
Their faith was expressed in different ways, but she felt his hope on her heart as fiercely as she felt her nightly prayers.
4 down, 46 to go!