CHAPTER 6

Scotland - 1941

The high, shrill sound of the air raid alarms filled the silent night. Not a minute later aircrafts were heard up in the sky as well as the sound of bombs falling. Shelagh and Aislinn were roughly awakened and as quickly as they could they left the comfort of their beds. On the landing they saw their father coming towards them. "Come, girls, quickly. To the shelter!"

As fast as they could they descended the stairs. They opened the front door and saw the sky colored orange. After a moments hesitation, the two young girls and their father took to running to the shelter as best they could. The shelter was only a couple of feet from their home. Shelagh arrived there first and she quickly opened the door. When her sister arrived, she quickly grabbed her hand and helped Aislinn inside to take the stairs down.

She looked up to see her father coming forth, but as he was recovering from an infection to his leg after being shot, he couldn't run as fast as he used to. Both sisters heard their father yelling to Shelagh to get inside already. The older girl did as she was told. The moment she stepped inside on the upper stair, the unmistakable sound of a falling bomb was heard above them. Aislinn too had heard the sound and made her way up the stairs again. Shelagh turned around to yell at her father to hurry up when the bomb impacted to the yard around their farm. Both girls screamed when they saw their father being flung high up in the sky on impact. Aislinn tried to run towards her father, but Shelagh grabbed her arm tightly.

"Let me go! We need to help him!"

"Aislinn," Shelagh's voice sounded pained and when Aislinn looked up at her sister's face, she saw the unshed tears in her eyes.

"We need to help him." This time the resolute sound in her voice had turned into uncertainty.

Shelagh enveloped her sister in a hug. "I wish we could, my darling sister. I wish we could, but I'm afraid it's too late."

Poplar; London - Present Day

Aislinn awoke with a start. It had been a while since she had last dreamed about the air raid which killed their father. Even then, at sixteen, Shelagh had been the most sensible one. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the moment their mother had died, Shelagh had taken over that role even only eight years old herself.

She remembered they had gone back to their house -they couldn't really call it a home anymore- and they packed as much as they could carry in their suitcases. When morning came, they went to the train station and took the train to Edinburgh. Shelagh knew that their father's sister lived there and she hoped they could stay there for a bit, up until they had found a place of their own.

When they arrived, and had asked for directions to their aunt's house, they got the devastating news that all the houses there had been destroyed a couple of months earlier by an air raid, leaving no survivors. The first night, they spent in the Princes Street Gardens on one of the benches. A shiver ran down Aislinn's spine, simply remembering how cold they had been. The next night had been much warmer, they had been taken in by a lovely young couple who had been taking a walk in the gardens early that same morning. Their names: Allister and Agnes Fairfax.

A knock on the door brought Aislinn back to present time. When she had called a soft 'Enter' the door opened and Sister Julienne appeared with a tray with bread and tea. With a soft smile on her face, the Sister walked towards Aislinn while commenting she thought the woman to be hungry by now. The moment Sister Julienne had said so, Aislinn's stomach indicated that food was indeed needed.

"Thank you," Aislinn gratefully said and she tried to sit up. She managed to do so, without any help, but still she grimaced in pain.

Sister Julienne saw the grimace, but decided not to mention it. She placed the tray on Aislinn's legs, asking if it was acceptable and without much pain. Aislinn nodded and stretched her left arm to grab a piece of bread. The sleeve of the nightgown she was now wearing showed half of her arm which made the numbers on it visible. The moment Aislinn noticed it had happened, she pushed the sleeve down again and then hesitantly looked up at Sister Julienne. Her fears were confirmed when she saw the sympathetic look on the Sister's face and she bowed her head in shame.

Sister Julienne took the chair over next to the bed and sat down. "Which one?" she asked gently.

It took all the strength Aislinn could muster to say it out loud. And even then it came out on a whisper of breath. It still pained her too much to talk about it. She shook her head when Sister Julienne asked her if Shelagh knew. "Not that I am aware of. If she does know it would break her heart," Aislinn whispered, "and she would feel more guilty about breaking her promise than she already does."

Sister Julienne gently took Aislinn's left arm in her left hand and with her right hand she slowly pushed the sleeve of the nightgown up. "So this is not what has Shelagh so upset?" A 'No…' was whispered. "You sent her away because of this." It was a statement, not a question and Sister Julienne had only to look at Aislinn to know it was what had happened. Like Shelagh, Aislinn wore her heart on her sleeve. "Oh my dear sweet child." Sister Julienne gently gathered Aislinn in a hug, mindful of both her injuries and the tray of food. "You're not only afraid it would break her heart and left her feeling more guilty, are you not?"

"No."

The Sister suspected as much. "Though I'm certain it would break her heart and left her feeling more guilty, she could never ever think nor love you any less for it. Knowing Shelagh, I'd say she'd think you extremely brave and would love you even more for all the horrors you've endured and seen."

"How can you be so sure?" a tear-filled voice asked.

"Because about fourteen years ago, there was this young woman who was brought to our home. And although it's not my story to tell, but your sister's, I can tell you that the first thing she said to me was: 'I wish I would have half the strength my sister has shown me these past few days.' You see, Aislinn, she has always thought you to be extremely brave. And although the time probably will never be right, don't you think you owe it to each other to tell the other what happened after they separated you?" Sister Julienne stood up and walked towards the door. "I'll let you think about it and I'll be back in half an hour to clear up the tray."

Patrick Turner knew when he chose to marry Shelagh, there was still so much they needed to learn about each other. They knew almost nothing about each other's childhoods, their time as adolescents was unknown as well. He'd always thought she went straight to nursing school from home and then after qualifying became a nun. Boy, had he been mistaken. In a week's time he had not only learned that his sweet, darling wife had a sister, but also that she'd been on the run for the Nazi's.

He couldn't really blame her for not telling him, though. 'Pot, kettle and black, Patrick.' He admonished himself, for he hadn't told her what had happened to him after the war right from the start either. He came downstairs to find Timothy already awake, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, talking animatedly to Shelagh. Her responses were short, but Patrick noticed that Timothy was to happy to see her among them again to notice her thoughts where not with his conversation.

"Morning, dad."

Patrick tried to smile and actually managed to show a small one. "Good morning, Timothy." Then he went over to Shelagh, who was standing at the stove and he gently hugged her while he whispered a good morning to her. He instantly noticed she relaxed visibly and with one last caress, he too sat down on one of the kitchen chairs.

Shelagh turned around, a small smile gracing her face. "Breakfast is almost ready."

Timothy raised his arms in the air while exclaiming he was glad to have a proper breakfast made by his mother again. Both Shelagh and Patrick chuckled. Then a cry was heard. "Someone has woken up." Shelagh said.

"I'll go and get her." Patrick replied, while he walked back up to gather their daughter. While going down again, Angela happily coed while she was being carried by Patrick. When entering the kitchen for a second time that morning -this time with Angela in his arms- Patrick told his wife that he'd leave the dressing of their daughter to her this time.

"I'd be happy too," Shelagh said, while she put the plates on the table. "I admit I've missed these morning rituals we have."

Patrick smiled, he whole-heartedly agreed. He had just placed Angela in her feeding chair, when the phone rang. Timothy stood up and rushed to answer the phone. "Turner residence, Timothy speaking." It stayed quiet at the other end of the line. "Hello? Who is this? Do you need to speak to doctor Turner?"

Both Patrick and Shelagh looked at the boy questionably when the boy turned around and said: "It's for you mum."

While she put down her cutlery and stood up, she asked Timothy who it was that was calling. Timothy, who had walked back to start on his breakfast, shrugged his shoulders while he replied: "A woman named Aislinn."

Patrick let is cutlery fall on his plate. The noise of it made, made the rest look at him. He only had his eyes on Shelagh. While she picked up the phone, Patrick walked over to her. He stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders for silent support.

"Shelagh Turner speaking."

"Shelagh? It's Aislinn…" The line stayed silent for a moment.

"Timothy told us it was you. Are you … are you all right?"

"I'm feeling better than yesterday." Another silence, then: "Shelagh, I'm sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have done what I did."

"I accept your apology."

"Could you… Can we… Can we please talk?"

Shelagh absentmindedly nodded her head, then she realized that Aislinn couldn't see that, so she hurriedly said: "Yes, of course."

"Thank you."

"Let me finish my breakfast and I'll come over. I'll be there in an hour."