Author Notes: This is my very first story - so be kind! A massive shout out to deepdowninmybones - without your encouragement and assistance, this story would never see the light of day! You are simply incredible!
Let me know what you think! It is halfway completed so far and I will post chapters regularly :)
Enjoy reading!
They had just finished at the Carter's twin's delivery, and it was not without a spectacle. As Sister Bernadette stepped through the threshold, the brisk, early morning air swept across her face as she was walking out of the building. She could sense Dr Turner's proximity without glancing back—his measured steps a soft echo to her own. Sister Bernadette has been noticing Dr Turner more than she ought to. During the delivery, there were many times she would look over to Dr Turner and catch his gaze as they worked together in sync to save mother and babies. Probably more frequently than appropriately allowed.
The feelings that stirred in Sister Bernadette's body when she caught his gaze confused her. With every fleeting glance, a flush would climb her cheeks, an unfamiliar heat that felt both alarming and exhilarating and her stomach would fill with flutters. It was an excitement, a nervousness she couldn't quite name, nor did she dare explore too deeply.
She was just 22 when she joined the order and she had never experienced these feelings previously. Being married to God and trained to tune out personal feelings and concentrate on completing God's work within the community, these feelings were a very foreign experience for Sister Bernadette, leaving her in a haze of confusing emotions.
As they reached Dr Turner's car, Sister Bernadette turned around to give her goodbyes and fetch her bicycle to return to Nonnatus House, however was once again caught in Dr Turner's gaze who was watching her with an unrecognizable look on his face.
He was leaning against the front of his car and had just pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. She watched, entranced, as the flame touched the end of his cigarette, igniting an amber glow that briefly illuminated his features. He inhaled deeply. The lines of tension from the taxing delivery visibly melting away from his face as he revelled in a moment of solitary pleasure. She found herself caught in the act of observing him. The delicate curl of smoke that danced upwards mesmerized her, teasing her senses with its transient spirals. A warmth crept up her neck as she noticed the way his lips pursed around the cigarette, a gesture so intimate and yet unwittingly shared. The feeling of fluttering once again started to build in the pit of her stomach, it quickly swelled within her.
Dr Turner started talking "We're like an officer and a sergeant the morning after the Somme, and that's not to say I see myself as the officer" he mused, the smoke trailing from his mouth with each word. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. He took another deliberate puff, the glowing tip of the cigarette flaring momentarily. "I feel as though I should offer you one, Sister," he said, extending his cigarette towards Sister Bernadette.
Sister Bernadette felt tethered to the spot by his invitation, by the unexpected desire to remain in this moment where duties and vows blurred into the smoky dawn.
Sister Bernadette hesitated, her hand trembling slightly as she reached towards Dr. Turner's proffered cigarette. "Just a puff," she whispered, more to reassure herself than him.
Dr Turner's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Of this?" he queried, indicating the burning stick between his fingers with a subtle tilt of his head.
"Quickly, just a wee one," Sister Bernadette insisted, her voice barely above a murmur. She drew in the smoke, feeling it fill her lungs, and a wave of memories washed over her. "Ooh, what are these?" she asked, releasing a cloud that mingled with the early morning air.
"Henley's," Dr. Turner responded, his voice laced with curiosity.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Henley's! I loved Henley's." Her eyes softened with recollection. "They were the kind my father used to smoke. I used to sneak one out of his desk sometimes when I was about 14."
Taking another drag, the soothing tendrils of smoke seemed to unravel the tightness that had wound itself within her all night. As she handed the cigarette back, she met Dr Turner's gaze. "Thank you, Dr Turner, that was very kind of you to share."
He accepted it, drawing a long puff, his eyes never leaving hers. "I have to admit, Sister, I'm rather surprised but you certainly earned it," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a warm, approving smile.
The compliment sent a flush creeping up Sister Bernadette's neck, and she quickly looked away. She really ought to be getting back to Nonnatus House, but the pull to linger was potent like a silent siren call from the man before her, compelling her to stay.
"How is young Timothy going?" she asked, steering the conversation towards safer waters.
Dr. Turner's expression softened, a mix of pride and exasperation playing across his features. "Oh, he is doing well, Sister! Enjoying the cubs, though he does not hesitate to critique my culinary skills—or lack thereof."
She chuckled, picturing Timothy's earnest face, his comments likely delivered with the same thoughtful candour as his father's.
Dr Turner, having lost his wife Marianne to cancer a little over a year ago, was trying to continue his role in the community as the local GP, as well as be the sole parent for his young son Timothy. Sister Bernadette smiled at the thought of the sweet wee lad he was. She had a rather soft spot for that boy, as well as his father.
"Dr Turner," she began, the words spilling out before caution could rein them back, "if you would like a nice home-cooked meal, I would be happy to help you two boys out."
She stood in the quiet morning light, her heart racing as she offered Dr. Turner a home-cooked meal.
After the words hung in the air, she inwardly chastised herself. It was an offer born from a place she hadn't dared explore, wrapped in the guise of communal duty. Yet, she found herself hoping he would accept, craving closeness this offer would bring.
Dr Turner watched her with a curious expression "Sister, I couldn't possibly take up your precious time, although I'm sure Timothy would disagree." They shared a small chuckle together at the thought of the boy's answer to her question. She knew this answer was for the best, but unable to quell the rising feeling of disappointment, she insisted "It would be no bother, Doctor," though doubt gnawed at her insides. The words had slipped out before she could stop them, a mix of duty and an uncharted longing.
Dr Turner's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You are most kind Sister, I - Tim would love that" he replied, laughter dancing between them. But beneath their shared chuckle laid an unspoken tension. Sister Bernadette had felt a flicker of disappointment when he initially hesitated to accept her offer. "I best be going back to Nonnatus House; it's almost time for lauds," she said, eager to escape the heat of the moment. "Would you like a lift?" he asked quickly.
"No thank you, Doctor. I'll ride my bicycle." With that, she pedalled away into the brightening dawn, acutely aware of his gaze lingering on her retreating figure.
xXx
As Sister Bernadette arrived at Nonnatus House, confusion enveloped her like a heavy cloak. What had prompted her to make such an offer? She knew it strayed from her vows but couldn't shake thoughts of Dr Turner and his sweet boy.
Inside Nonnatus House, Sister Julienne's voice cut through her trance. "Oh Sister, you're back! I was starting to worry when Nurse Franklin had returned from the delivery alone." The warmth in Sister Julienne's tone drew her from her thoughts.
"I'm sorry Sister; I was debriefing with Dr Turner," she replied softly, avoiding further details about their conversation—a secret tucked away under layers of shame and protection.
Sister Julienne placed a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm glad you were able to talk with him after the difficult delivery. Please do not hesitate to come see me should you need any further debriefing." Her gentle smile offered solace amidst her turmoil.
"Are you joining us for lauds?" Sister Julienne asked kindly.
Despite fatigue weighing heavily on her body and mind, Sister Bernadette felt drawn toward prayer—perhaps it was what she needed most right now. "I'll join you" she answered quietly.
Together they walked towards the chapel where prayers filled the air like sweet incense. But as they sang psalms and sought divine guidance, Sister Bernadette found herself distracted by thoughts of Dr Turner—his gentle smile and kind eyes haunted her prayers.
After Lauds ended, Sister Julienne encouraged her to rest. Yet sleep eluded Sister Bernadette as she tossed and turned in bed—her dreams filled with visions of the doctor who stirred feelings within her that felt both thrilling and terrifying.
In those moments before sleep finally claimed her, one truth became clear: this was more than mere duty. It was a yearning for connection that challenged everything she believed about herself and her calling as a nun.