Northfield Ch 18

The Moor House at Hampstead Heath

Early next morning, Shelagh crept down the stairs to the Nonnatus House hall with her suitcase in one hand and three letters in another. When she arrived at the surgery door, she heard a voice behind her.

"You seek to depart unnoticed. But know this: The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in." It was Sister Evangelina, looking concerned and stern at the same time.

Shelagh turned to her. "I wish I could explain. I can't. I have to leave. I have to."

"I know something is wrong. Doctor Turner came to call at the hospital…to see his sister-in-law."

Shelagh swallowed. So Patrick had confided in Sister Evangelina to some degree.

"As concerned as he was for her, his real concern seemed to be you. He asked me to watch over you and offer whatever help you need."

Shelagh broke into tears. Sister Evangelina took Shelagh's bag, putting it on the floor and the letters on a desk. She hugged her and made some comforting sounds. "There now….my poor girl. "

It took a while for Shelagh to calm down. Then they sat.

Shelagh gave Sister Evangelina the letters. "The first one is to you. The others…one to…Doctor Turner. And one to Timothy."

"Can you tell me what is in these letters?"

"That I can't go through with the marriage, and that I must leave." She felt she could not reveal all her doubts and fears to this good Sister, and she wasn't sure if she even saw the events in their true proportions. It was not her place to talk about Timothy being adopted; it was private. Elaine's illness was private, too, although it had been revealed to Sister Evangelina. "I'm afraid I can't say much else at the moment, Sister."

Sister Evangelina looked rather helpless and a bit grim. She promised to deliver the letters to Patrick and Timothy. "Beware though, Shelagh, I can't promise that I will not talk with Doctor Turner if he wishes to talk about the situation."

Shelagh nodded. That was one reason why she felt it was not right for her to reveal all the aspects of this unhappy affair.

"I am sorry to leave you in such a spot. I should have given two weeks' notice, but…"

Sister Evangelina shook her head. "I think you are in need of a compassionate leave. I think you should find a doctor who orders you to rest. You can go to Hampstead. Leave the practicalities to me."

With these promises, she left for Hampstead. She was warmly welcomed and no questions were asked at first. At the end of her first week there, Anna said that to work again at Hampstead, they really needed to know about her state of mind. Shelagh told her what had happened, a version as close to the truth she could tell without too much agony and tears.

Anna seemed to be thinking hard. "I think you should continue working here at the nursery for a while. Later, you should perhaps seek help. I don't know which kind of help, professional, therapeutic, spiritual – whatever you need. But that can wait." Shelagh accepted the offer to work at the nursery, and to the other help – she really could not yet say what she needed.

Over time, stability returned to her life. Obviously her thoughts lingered on the events, on Patrick and Timothy and all that had passed. Had she been too trusting or too brash – or was she too accident prone, a typical trauma survivor's problem? She was trying to solve these questions and see her own responsibility lie for what had gone wrong.

Shelagh felt she made progress, even if her heart ached still. As days went by, she was ready admit that Patrick had indeed been close to addressing some difficult subjects – he had been talking of marriage with warts and all. She had been so involved in her own feelings and desires that it must have been difficult for him to bring up family history. Elaine's arrival at Poplar was something he could not have foreseen. She felt that Patrick and herself had been in a sort of bubble, seeing only each other and their dreams of a new family, Timothy included. Now they had woken up into reality.

Then, in the first week of December, she got an unsigned letter addressed in an unknown hand. The letter contained a single photograph: a tall man and a boy, facing away from the camera at a distance. Patrick and Timothy. The location was a familiar Poplar Street; she recognized the buildings. Who had sent this picture to her and why? Was there some message in it?

Her mind ran full circle of who might be the sender, from A-Z, including Patrick himself and Sister Evangelina. Yet she felt that it was useless to speculate.

The next week she got a thick, large envelope, written in the same unknown hand. She opened it nervously. There was the manuscript of a psychiatric case study. It seemed like a draft or the notes for an article for some medical journal.

She had to take a deep breath and sit down when she read the abstract. It was the story of a British female patient with a long history of mental illness. Her recovery had begun as a patient in the clinical trials at a Paris mental hospital in early 1952. The trial concerned the new drug chlorpromazine*. The case study addressed how such medication and psychotherapy could be successfully combined.

It took her a good two hours to read and reflect on the case which she intuitively knew was that of Elaine Parker. The study described how well she had responded to the drug and how she had herself asked for psychotherapy. Then she had felt a need to mend her relations with her family, and for that purpose, she had left for England. She had continued treatment at University College Hospital in London under the care of Doctor Haddon, the author of this case study. A relapse in the treatment occurred when she had stopped taking the medicine for a while. The relapse included a hospitalization period, this time supported by her family members whom she had been reunited with. It was indicated that the family members included the son she had been forced to give away, to her now deceased twin sister.

The strange journey of Elaine leapt from the pages of this manuscript to Shelagh, making her both restless and oddly relieved. The author stressed the importance of family relations in recoveries like this, and while the new drug seemed helpful indeed, he said that there was no guarantee that it alone could help people with manic or paranoid symptoms in the long term. The article also hinted at other, non-psychiatric medical problems the female patient suffered from, but it didn't specify.

Shelagh felt that she should consult Anna about this strange case of a letter sender who seemed so intimate with Elaine Parker. She felt that she should perhaps contact someone at Poplar who could shed a light on the matter.

The next day, after sleeping badly, she was called to telephone by a member of staff. "Nurse Mannion, there is a young person on the line, asking for you."

When she answered the phone, she heard Timothy's voice. "Shelagh, I am sorry to bother you. I just had to call. Granny Parker knows that I am calling you, by the way. She has been staying with us…ever since."

Shelagh was on the verge of asking "what about your father", but restrained herself. Tim's voice was so little and tired.

"Tim, it is good to hear from you. I am sorry I had to leave. I….just had to."

"That's all right. Dad and Granny Parker have explained some…things. But could you come back, just for a visit? Aunt Elaine has been taken ill again, and she is at hospital."

"Is she at the University College Hospital?"

"No she is at the London. Something to do with her lungs. But it is father I am worried about. He's having some kind of breakdown."

Shelagh felt her heart cringe. "What kind of a breakdown?"

"There is a diphtheria outbreak in Poplar and he has been working long days and is exhausted. Now he's been given some medication, and he just sleeps."

There was a silence after that. Shelagh broke it. "Tim, are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Tim, it is possible that I can come to visit. You can tell Granny Parker that I will come this evening if possible. Tomorrow morning the latest."

She could hear a sigh of relief at the other end. "I will do that. Thank you Shelagh, you are a brick. "

*The first clinical trials were indeed made in France, but for male patients.