CHAPTER 5

Once the Turner family had gotten home, Shelagh instantly went upstairs. Timothy looked at his father and asked him if he should get their 'easy dinner' ready. Patrick nodded and put Angela in her playpen. The little girl had fallen asleep during the ride home and even being put down didn't wake her up. Then he followed his wife upstairs.

He found her in their bedroom, curled up on her side. He sat down besides her, letting his hand rest on her upper arm, softly stroking. She didn't acknowledge him and kept staring at the wall. Patrick told her Timothy was getting their 'easy dinner' ready, the underlying message in that sentence was that he thought she should come and join them. The only answer he got was 'I'm not hungry'. He kissed her temple and told her he'd be back later after dinner, then he quietly closed the door of their bedroom and went downstairs.

Timothy had set the table for all four of them, but when he noticed his father coming down alone, he silently cleared away his mother's plate and cutlery. Patrick put his hand on Timothy's shoulder for a moment as a silent support. Then he turned around to get his daughter. Dinner was a quiet affair that evening in the Turner household.

The Sisters of Nonnatus House were doing their evening prayers. Sister Julienne led the other Sisters in prayer and no one was surprised that both Shelagh and Aislinn were in it. Though all Sisters (and the nurses as well) were curious as to what had happened between the two siblings, they respected their privacy. If they wanted to share their story, they would in their own time.

Afterwards either Sister went her own way. Sister Evangelina stopped Sister Julienne and the Sister-in-Charge knew what was to come. "Let's go to my office, where we shall not be disturbed."

The door was barely closed and Sister Evangelina came straight to the point. "What happened upstairs? Shelagh completely looked out of sorts."

Sister Julienne understood her fellow Sister's concern. She too was very concerned when she had seen Shelagh. She was a ghost of the woman she used to be. "All I know is Aislinn woke up."

"She's awake? But that's a reason to be happy, I'd say."

Sister Julienne nodded. "Normally it would." It was then that she remembered something that happened a long time ago, when Shelagh had just joined the order and had become Sister Bernadette. Then she looked at Sister Evangelina. "But I think the past is catching up on them, without having been able to give it a proper place to be just that: the past."

Sister Evangelina looked confused to Sister Julienne. "You know more, don't you?"

"I don't know what happened upstairs, but I have my suspicions. But I have remembered something that happened when Shelagh had just joined us as Sister Bernadette. But it's not my story to tell."

"No, I guess it's not." The other Sister conceded.

Angela had been brought to bed and Patrick tried to help Timothy with the little bit of homework he had left. When that had been done, the boy bid his father goodnight and also went to sleep. Patrick decided that staying down wasn't that much of an option while he worried about Shelagh and he also decided to turn in.

When Patrick came upstairs, he found Shelagh fast asleep. He quietly changed into his pajamas and laid down besides her. In her sleep, Shelagh turned to him and Patrick put his arm around her. Within five minutes, he too was asleep.

It was the middle of the night when Patrick was roughly awakened from his sleep. He noticed the restlessness in Shelagh. She was moving around frantically, he got a kick from her and he realized that was what had woken him up. She was definitely dreaming about something that was quite upsetting to her. He was contemplating of waking her up, but he also knew that she needed all the sleep she could get after the past week of taking care of her sister. But when she cried out the name of her sister with such anguish, his decision was made: he needed to wake her up out of the nightmare she apparently was having.

"Shelagh, wake up. It's all right, you're having a nightmare."

Patrick's soothing voice and tender caress slowly woke Shelagh. It took her a minute to realize she was in their bedroom, in their bed, in the safety of his arms. When she did, she clung to her husband, crying silently, her desperation clear to him.

"Shhh, it's all right." He whispered, stroking her hair. "I am here. It was only a nightmare. It wasn't real. Aislinn is safely at Nonnatus House."

"It was real. It did happen." Shelagh whispered, her voice thick.

"What happened? What did you dream about?" Patrick gently prodded.

"The war." Shelagh knew she wouldn't be able to keep quiet about this anymore and she had no energy at the moment to fight his insistence of knowing.

Patrick was taken aback. He had always assumed that she had spent those years at home, in Scotland. It was three years after the war had ended, she had joined the Order of Nonnatus as Sister Bernadette. He remembered the conversation with Sister Julienne he had when he just started working in Poplar. He had been amazed a woman of her age decided to become a nun, instead of going out with friends. He remembered the Sister's answer quite clearly: "Sometimes, doctor Turner, what we actually want is not what we need to do." That had been all that she had told him, he had never questioned it again.

"Do you want to tell me?" he asked and he hoped she would.

Shelagh pulled back from his embrace and settled against the headboard of their bed. Her hands were in her lap and she was rubbing them anxiously, he noticed. "When I was in the sanatorium for the treatment of the TB, there was this nurse." Patrick took her hands in his, to give her the support she would need to continue telling him her story. Shelagh looked at their joined hands and then at Patrick. "She was the one who brought me your letters. She called me 'International Nun of Mystery' because I hardly said anything to anyone. One day she brought me my afternoon tea, and she told me she had figured it out. I was on the run. I did a number in Geneva; escaped with the proceeds; the habit's a disguise; TB: a pure cover story. I was a Jane Bond. I neither confirmed or denied her theory and she left a bit disappointed."

Patrick chuckled when he heard this bit about her time in the sanatorium. She had never mentioned it before. Shelagh looked at him with sad eyes, and he hastily replied: "That nurse her imagination has no limits."

"But that's just it, Patrick!" Shelagh exclaimed. "She hit the nail on the head."

Patrick looked dumb-founded at his wife. "What do you mean?"

"I was on the run and the habit was a disguise. It was only meant to continue for a year, two at the most. But by then I felt safe where I was, and I stayed to learn more and then in 1948 I officially joined."

"Whatever where you on the run for?"

"Not whatever, Patrick. Whomever. And the whom, were the Nazi's."