Northfield 14

Mushy stuff. And a letter.

There is really no way to prevent the meetings of lovers, not even with long days of house calls, community meals, prayers, fatherly duties or district nursing. Shelagh and Patrick met every day, under the benevolent, but watchful eyes of Mrs. Fairfax or Sister Evangelina. Sometimes they were chaperoned by the happy, but occasionally slightly disgusted Timothy.

When Timothy first saw his Dad and Shelagh kissing, a completely appropriate peck on the lips, he winced: "Is there going to be a lot of this in the future? Do you really have to? I like the idea of us being a family, but…"

Patrick and Shelagh exchanged an amused glance. "You'd better just toughen up, son, and take it like a man. We are not going to give it up," Patrick advised him. Shelagh laughed and felt once again elated at the prospect of being part of this family.

XXX

On some evenings, they stole a private moment on the Nonnatus House porch or in the garden. On one particular chilly evening, Shelagh had been waiting there a long time for Patrick, who was late as usual.

Finally, there he was, leaping up the steps to the Nonnatus House porch. "There she is, waiting for me in the cold. Oh my mustard seed, it seems you can't do without me. What blushes I see."

He gathered her in his arms determinedly and bent to kiss her. "See, I made a little poem for you."

"Your imitation of a romantic lover is very bad. Skip it."

He roared with laughter. "I was certain you would admonish me in exactly that way if I ever dared to try to be soppily romantic. Where's your coat? Never mind. Take mine."

He put his coat on her, pulling it tight around her.

"I want you to wear my clothes. Preferably my pyjamas," he whispered to her ear.

Shelagh hid her blush against his waistcoat. This comment needed a rebuttal before it kindled a full fire. "Where did this possessiveness come from? You are supposed to be a modern man: no fuss, no futile propriety rules. You're acting like a primitive one."

"All right, I will rephrase it. I am just so glad to be able to share all that is mine."

"That's better."

"All my worldly goods I thee endow. 60 days to the wedding."

The tone was teasing, but Shelagh was swept away by the underlying tenderness. They had indeed fixed the wedding day as Christmas Eve. "You expect me to promise to obey you, do you?"

"Yes, I do. It is just a clever trick, this wedding ceremony. The obeying part is there to keep my self-respect in the eyes of the world. Because in truth, I am the servant and you are the mistress."

They sat down on a bench. "So, love, how was your day? What have you been doing?"

"Nothing much, just work. Tim needed help with his biology homework. How long butterflies live and so on. And I wrote Granny Parker a letter."

"You did?"

"She was so kind to send me that bouquet of roses in congratulation. I wanted to thank her properly, it is very nice of her to be so supportive."'

Patrick became subdued. "Joan is a great, tough old lady. I really like her. You two should meet before the wedding."

"You should ask her to come for visit."

"Yes." There was a silence for a moment. He stroke the new engagement ring on her hand while draping his left arm across her shoulders.

Then his face grew mock grim. "Are you still thinking of buying that grey silk dress?"

She had found a most stylish dress on one of their outings in the shops. She thought it would be a very suitable wedding dress. Some of her insecurities had come to surface, at least regarding clothes. Jennifer Turner was always so smart in photographs, and Shelagh wanted to be as subtly elegant as she had been. The grey dress seemed so ladylike. Patrick had expressed his opinion at the shop, in French: non, non, absolument non! But she didn't let that stop her plan.

"Patrick, it is going to be a very small wedding. It is a lovely dress, and will be very useful as a fine party dress later. Why the sad face, tyrant? Why the fuss about keeping with the white tradition?"

He sighed. "I think that obey clause cannot come fast enough." He grinned and pulled her into an embrace. "For various reasons!"

xxxxxx

Another evening and another tete-a-tete. Patrick and Shelagh were lounging on the Turners' sofa. Mrs. Fairfax had gone to bed after reminding Shelagh to not stay too late.

The pair were still sometimes speaking in riddles and metaphors, as lovers do.

Shelagh rested against his chest, in a loose hold. "My heart has four chambers. Nonnatus House and your house. You and Timothy."

"A good place to be. My Mistress of Chambers."

"You know I yearn for a fifth chamber. Do you think it could be…possible?"

His contentment was shown in a little, happy grunt, muffled in her hair. "Yes. I would think so. In due time. When you want and if you want…."

He grinned. "As a Doctor I shake my head at your knowledge of the anatomy of the heart. A nurse should know better. As your fiancée" – his voice trembled with pride when he said it – "I delight in your dreams. I would like a baby."

"Oh, Patrick, I have been given so much, and I still long for more. I sometimes feel ungrateful."

"Don't. You don't need to feel that way."