In the bustling heart of Poplar, Sister Bernadette was a whirlwind of energy. Always on her feet, she found joy in the work that surrounded her—especially on antenatal clinic days. Every Tuesday, she awoke with a smile, eager for the busy afternoon ahead. Without fail, she would rise with the dawn, her heart lifted by the knowledge of the busy afternoon awaiting her at the clinic.
Arriving earlier than her fellow nuns and nurses was a well-practised routine. While Sister Bernadette liked to view it as being ahead of schedule, the deeper truth lay in a comforting ritual that brought her joy.
She would arrive at the hall and disappear straight into the kitchen. She would put the kettle on the stove to make some tea and pull some biscuits out of the cupboard and onto a small plate. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she would busily set up the hall for the swarm of mothers and their little ones preparing to seek care.
The familiar sound of footsteps would soon echo through the hall—Dr Turner was here. Known for his late arrivals due to an overwhelming patient load, however, he always managed to stroll into clinic with fifteen minutes to spare. She loved this moment; it allowed her to serve him tea and biscuits before he plunged into his demanding schedule.
Perfect timing as always, she thought as he entered the kitchen, looking slightly dishevelled yet charmingly handsome. His tired eyes sparkled with gratitude as he accepted her offering. "You always seem to know, don't you Sister?" he remarked with a warm smile that made her heart flutter. Even with his dishevelled coat and unruly hair, that smile struck a chord deep within her, igniting feelings she struggled to suppress.
But Sister Bernadette quickly shook off these feelings—she had vows to uphold and a community to serve. The women waiting outside needed her support during their pregnancies, and she couldn't afford distractions.
Sister Bernadette, feeling frustrated with herself, walked out of the kitchen to find the hall filling with her fellow Sisters and Nurses.
As they moved through the clinic together, laughter filled the air from nurses chatting about weekend plans while setting up stations for patients. Despite their kindness towards her, she felt pangs of jealousy at their carefree lives—the glamorous outfits they donned for nights out dancing seemed worlds away from her own reality, not that she wanted these things, not at all – she was doing important work for Him in the community, following her vows of poverty and obedience, allowing God to guide her through life to assist others in need.
Throughout the busy afternoon, despite her best efforts to focus on helping others, Dr Turner's presence lingered in her mind like an uninvited guest. She found herself stealing glances at him more often than she intended— the compassion in his eyes, the gentle way he held newborns, and the genuine interest he showed to every patient.
Yet, with every fleeting glance shared between them, Sister Bernadette chastised herself for these distractions. She had devoted her life to service, proclaiming vows of poverty and obedience and those moments caught in his gaze made her heart race in ways she had never anticipated.
There were a few moments when she would look up and lock eyes with Dr Turner – in those few seconds, it was like everything else around them faded away, it was just them. She could never tell what he was thinking in those moments. His eyes, although beautiful and expressive, did not inform her of their thoughts.
The afternoon at the clinic flowed quickly. Mothers arrived with expectant smiles, children played in corners, and Sister Bernadette navigated through her responsibilities with the grace of a well-rehearsed dance.
"Sister Bernadette! Did you hear me?!" The sharp voice of Sister Evangelina jolted her back into reality. Embarrassed by being caught daydreaming, she stammered an apology but felt shame wash over her like cold water.
Instinctively, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks, her heart sinking with the realisation that her distractions were becoming evident. The reminder of her responsibilities came as both a relief and a reprimand, forcing her to confront the softness creeping into her heart.
"What is it that you wanted, Sister?" Sister Bernadette responded with a flush across her cheeks. She felt shame and embarrassment. If Sister Evangelina noticed her stares, how could anyone else have not?What am I doing?! I should be concentrating on my duty; I have no right to think of such things!
Sister Evangelina instructed her to attend to Mrs. Low, a reminder of her true calling. With a bow of her head, Sister Bernadette moved forward.
Clarity washed over her as she navigated the clinic, whispering a silent prayer with each step. She sought to channel her thoughts into her work, the encounters with expectant mothers grounding her and reminding her of her vital role in their lives.
xXx
Tuesday's clinic was busy as always, all Nurses and Nun's working hard to ensure the effective running of the weekly antenatal clinic. Sister Julienne, known for her unwavering commitment and calm demeanour, was deep in thought as she reviewed the patient list.
Suddenly, Sister Evangelina's approach interrupted her focus. The frustration lacing her voice was palpable from the moment she spoke. "Sister Julienne, I wish to alert you to some concerning information."
Turning to face her fellow sister, she wondered what was troubling her. "What may I help you with, Sister?" she replied, maintaining an air of composed patience.
Sister Evangelina's indignation spilled over as she recounted her observations of Sister Bernadette and Dr Turner. "All afternoon, I have done nothing but watch Sister Bernadette and Dr Turner look at each other. It is inappropriate and completely distracting. I don't know what is going on, but something needs to be said!" The urgency in her tone was unmistakable, the tension brewing beneath the surface of their daily responsibilities.
Sister Julienne endeavoured to soothe her colleague, infusing her words with reassurance. "Leave it with me, Sister. Do try to calm yourself. I am sure there is nothing to be concerned about. Carry on as usual, please. Thank you for your hard work." Despite her gentle smile and earnest intent, Sister Evangelina walked away unconvinced, a frown still etched on her brow.
As she returned to her duties, Sister Evangelina's concerns echoed in her mind. Stealing a glance across the clinic, she spotted Sister Bernadette gazing intently at the Doctor.
It wasn't the first time she had noticed this subtle exchange; instead, it was a recurring theme she had been keenly aware of. While it was true that such closeness seemed inappropriate, her trust in Sister Bernadette ran deep—an unwavering conviction that she was capable of managing whatever turmoil lay within.
Yet, as she observed the longing written across Dr. Turner's face, a flicker of doubt ignited. She felt a sense of surprise at her own emotions. Questions flooded her mind. What was truly transpiring between the two? In moments like these, she knew it was crucial to tread carefully—recognizing the boundaries of her role while also being acutely aware of the intricate web of human feelings surrounding them.
As the clinic continued to bustle around her, Sister Julienne couldn't help but gaze at the pair, noting the tender exchanges that momentarily danced between them. While Sister Evangelina's concerns were valid, she believed this delicate situation was one that required observation rather than immediate intervention. It seemed more prudent to monitor the dynamics unfolding before her, allowing it to reveal itself in time.
She kept observing everything quietly from afar, noticing how Dr Turner looked at Sister Bernadette with longing—a look that hinted at something deeper than friendship or professional camaraderie.
Sister Julienne trusted both individuals deeply but recognized that emotions could complicate their duties within Nonnatus House's sacred walls.
xXx
After the busy afternoon in the Parish Hall, Sister Bernadette found herself back home at Nonnatus House, wrestling with an inner turmoil that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day. Exhaustion weighed down on her—spiritually, emotionally, and mentally.
Surrounded by love and purpose through her work as a midwife and nurse, she found herself grappling with an unsettling silence from her faith. The guiding voice that had once filled her heart felt eerily absent, leaving behind a void that resonated with doubt.
Had her wavering thoughts towards a certain man created a gap too wide to bridge? Was it possible that she had strayed so far from grace that she no longer deserved the divine guidance she had depended upon for so long? The relentless thoughts swirled around her like a storm, threatening to drown her in despair.
That evening, as she sat down at dinner with her fellow sisters and nurses, the weight of her thoughts felt heavier than ever. Dinner was usually a source of comfort, now passed by in a haze of silence.
She completed her compline and sought solace in the stillness—but instead of finding peace, the chaos of her mind echoed louder than before. Where was His voice? The question haunted her, reverberating through the stillness of her being.
xXx
The bustling days at Nonnatus House continued, filled with patients and prayers, but within its walls, the untold threads of love, longing, and faith were woven intricately into the lives of those who sought to heal others, often leaving their own wounds unspoken. Sister Julienne remained watchful, knowing that each heart had its own journey, and sometimes, all one could do was stand by and hope for the best as the heart sought its way back to peace
She observed from a distance and recognized that the human heart often finds solace in silence but also aches in isolation. For Sister Bernadette, the struggle was not just with her vocation but also with her very identity—a yearning to understand where her faith stood amidst emotions that threatened to overtake her.