Northfield Ch 19

The next morning, Shelagh rang the Turner house doorbell.

She had arrived at Poplar late in the previous evening, after having called Sister Evangelina and heard her assessment of the situation. She took a room at Nonnatus House not wanting to burden Joan Parker with an additional house guest under the circumstances. She had also promised to help with the diphtheria vaccinations. Yet her deepest need was to be with Patrick. That was clear, but it made her heart anxious.

Joan Parker opened the door, a tall lady who looked a lot like Timothy. Mrs. Parker smiled at her and simply said:" It was very good of you to come. We are a bit at the end of our tether here."

Shelagh liked her straightforward, kind manner. They sat down in the living room and Mrs. Parker filled in some of the details. After Elaine had been released from the University College Hospital, she had lived with them at the Turner house for four weeks until her latent tuberculosis turned active. She was now at the London, for an evaluation and possible further treatment.

"I am not sure what is wrong with Patrick." Mrs. Parker's intelligent eyes were pained. "He just collapsed two days ago. I don't know if it was wise to allow Tim to call you, but he insisted."

"It is all right, "assured Shelagh, although still afraid if Patrick would truly want to see her. "Can I see him?"

"Yes, he is asleep upstairs. Let's go and see him, shall we? You must understand that he probably won't wake up, though. Surely you do. You are a nurse after all."

They entered his bedroom. It was odd to see such a tall, sturdy, lively man so immobile. He seemed so vulnerable in his sleep, Shelagh thought. The lines of his face were softened and his mouth, so active when he was awake, looked peaceful and innocent now. She sat down on the bed and took his hand. He seemed to understand that touch as his eyelids flickered. Yet he didn't wake up.

The doorbell rang. "Sorry, is it all right to leave you with him for a while?" Mrs. Parker asked. "I have to go and take the grocery delivery."

Shelagh agreed. After Mrs. Parker left, she took her shoes off. Then she lay herself on the other side of the bed. She crept close to Patrick and laid her head on his shoulder very carefully, taking his right arm and laying it on her hip.

It was so odd that this should be their first time in this bed together. The Christmas Eve that was supposed to be their wedding day was near. Yet there was a strange, sweet sacredness in their lying in like this. Shelagh felt her doubts and fears vanish, and all she needed was the closeness of his frail body.

He seemed to stir in his sleep: he turned towards her and started to stroke her side. He muttered in his sleep. "This is her shape, her size. This is Shelagh's shape and size…" There was a wistful little smile on his face. Shelagh felt heartened and sad at the same time. He took her hand in his. "This is her hand. These are her….elfin wings."

Then he fell again in deep sleep. He was pressing her hand firmly until little by little, his grip loosened.

XXXXX

In the evening, Shelagh was manning the Nonnatus House Clinic room by herself. All the other nurses were out at house calls, or at the Poplar Town Hall, the emergency centre hastily created to speed the vaccination program.

She had just kneeled down inside a cupboard to find the remaining box of clean needles when she heard a voice calling.

"Nurse, I need my bag. Could you help me pack it? Sister Mary Cynthia's house call patient needs an emergency tracheotomy."

She stood up and turned around. Patrick's face lit up, with a tremendous relief and a happy surprise. "Shelagh. You are back."

He opened his arms and Shelagh walked straight into his embrace and grasped him tightly. He let out a little, suppressed sob. "I thought I was just dreaming."

She controlled her teary voice as she knew he should not get excited. "No, it was not a dream, you seemed to recognize me in your bedroom…You talked of my shape and size….All of me is here. Also my heart."

A moment passed in silent, strained bliss. Then Shelagh dropped her embrace "You need your bag. It is nearly ready. I've been filling it with needles and syringes."

They finished the task together, in a hurry.

He took his bag, preparing to leave: "Shelagh, you should bring us some more vaccination serum. From what I heard from Sister Mary Cynthia, there is a large family in need of vaccination. The McLartys, in India Street."

"Yes, I will follow you after I have visited The London Pharmacy. Now go."

At the door he turned around. "I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you. Please go." He left running.

xxxxxx

Shelagh arrived at the McLarty family house in time to see the ambulance leaving. Patrick stood in the yard and as he turned, she saw his clear eyes. He nodded and smiled at her. "Patient saved," he mouthed silently. Shelagh felt immense relief, not just because Mrs. McLarty was safe, but because Patrick seemed so professional and fully in charge of the situation.

He raised his right arm and beckoned her inside. "Come, Nurse, we still have work to do. At least twelve vaccinations."

The vaccinations given, Shelagh came in to the kitchen after having cleaned the bedroom. Sister Mary Cynthia had already left.

She saw Patrick sitting there, with the cardboard of empty serum bottles beside him. He smiled again, this time a bit wanly. He stood up and came to her, and hesitated a moment before he raised his arms to take her into them.

"You. You are here." His voice had a bit of desperation. "I hope you've come to stay?"

"Yes, Patrick." Shelagh had indeed come to stay, and his expressed wish was the most delightful thing to hear.

"I thought I had lost you. I thought I had lost….my mind." His voice was a bit unsteady.

"No, Patrick, you are not lost. Not as long as I live." Then she started to cry. "I am so sorry Patrick, for what I said. I am so sorry I stayed away. I was confused…."

"Shush. I love you so much. I am also so sorry, so sorry for everything…"

He bent his head down. She felt his bony cheeks on hers, cold but so reassuring, his tentative fingers caressing her neck, and then his slightly trembling lips, dry and needy, on hers. She responded to the kiss with eagerness, melting away at his touch.

After a moment, a small eternity, she ventured to speak. "Let's get you home. "

Patrick took her head in his hands and looked at her tenderly. "Home. This is home. No more running. No more running away."

"Yes. We should promise that to each other, Patrick."