Chapter Text
In the spring of 1957, Shelagh McIntosh finds herself walking through the streets of Poplar. She carries a bag over one shoulder; her left hand clutches luggage that would be heavier, if she owned much; and in her right hand, she keeps a tight grip on the much smaller hand of Angela, her three-year-old daughter, whose eyes are wide as she takes in the sights of this new environment.
I do hope I’ve made the right decision in taking this job and bringing Angela along.
There just wasn’t anything left for us in Scotland, and keeping Angela with a babysitter while I’ve worked in London hospitals just hasn’t been working out for her.
Now that she’s old enough for nursery school, we can hopefully settle down and build a life here.
Living in a convent will certainly be unusual, but I hope it gives Angela a chance to build a community.
Shelagh has tried to prepare as much as she could for this transition. She has been corresponding with a local nursery school, and they are prepared to meet her later this week so Angela can begin her time there the following Monday. As she and Angela only live with what is necessary, it was not difficult to fit all of her and Angela’s possessions into just the luggage they are carrying, so they should not stand out too much while living in a convent of Anglican nuns.
I’ve done all I could to prepare Angela for this big change in our lives, but I imagine I’m feeling more anxious than she is.
She has always adjusted so well to whatever has come our way, and I’ve no doubt she will do so again.
She’s such a resilient little one.
Angela celebrated her third birthday earlier in the year, and as Shelagh glances down at her daughter, she marvels both at how big she’s gotten, and how much she looks like her father.
She has Gerald’s blond hair, brown eyes, and his quiet, calm demeanor.
Nothing can be done about it, but I will always wish he had been given a chance to meet her.
After quite a long walk, which—thankfully—Angela handles with very minimal grumbling, the mother and daughter finally reach their destination. It takes two trips for Shelagh to carry first their luggage and then Angela up the steps of the convent, but once she does, she gives herself a short moment to catch her breath before ringing the bell. The door is answered by an elderly nun, wearing a serious expression and not seemingly in a hurry to offer greeting, so Shelagh speaks first. “Hello, I’m Shelagh McIntosh, and this is Angela. I was told to report to the Sister-in-Charge.”
There is a pause before the nun answers, “Venus and Saturn are now in alignment. It is entirely appropriate that you should appear. Welcome to Nonnatus House.”
A strange greeting.
Hearing a sound up above them, the elderly nun points towards an aeroplane in the sky. “What do you suppose that is? One hears of visitors from realms apart from ours.”
Feeling a bit puzzled by this awkward direction of conversation, Shelagh offers a polite smile and responds, “I believe that’s an aeroplane. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s been quite a long walk to get here, and we would appreciate the opportunity to come inside.”
The nun says nothing, simply turning around and beckoning Shelagh and Angela to follow. As they enter the convent, their guide gives Shelagh a brief explanation of the nuns’ role here, as part of the Order of St. Raymond Nonnatus, before asking, “I assume you are possessed of the appropriate credentials?”
Feeling Angela beginning to fidget next to her, Shelagh nods. “Yes. I’m a trained nurse and midwife.”
Taking a look at Angela, who has handled the events of the day remarkably well, but who is now beginning to have less patience, the nun smiles. “I feel we are prompted to go in search of cake.”
From there, she leads Shelagh and Angela into the kitchen, where she rummages around for an uncomfortable amount of time before finally locating what seems to be a hidden coconut cake, carrying it to the dining room table with an air of delighted glee.
The next few minutes are spent in relative silence as Angela tucks into a rather large slice of cake; the nun eats two even larger slices of her own; and Shelagh forces herself to swallow the enormous slice served to her, still feeling a bit anxious by this strange beginning to her new position.
Thankfully, by the time she finishes the last bite of cake, a group of people enters the dining room. The first to greet her is another nun, who is quick to introduce herself. “Ah, hello. You must be Nurse McIntosh. I’m Sister Julienne.”
Pointing to the two nurses following behind her, the nun says, “This is Nurse Miller and Nurse Franklin, who will be your colleagues.”
Nurse Miller offers a sincere hello, and Nurse Franklin says, “We’re perfectly thrilled to have some reinforcements.”
Looking down at Angela, who has practically fallen asleep next to her now-empty plate, the blond nurse asks, “And who is this darling little one?”
With a smile, Shelagh runs her fingers through Angela’s hair. “This is my daughter, Angela, who I’m afraid usually naps during this time, and has had quite a long day already.”
Everyone smiles at that, and Sister Julienne takes a moment to glance around the room before her gaze re-settles on Shelagh. “I’m sorry we’re late. Clinic was busy, but I see you’ve already met Sister Monica Joan.”
Shelagh nods as the Sister-in-Charge continues, “We’ll take care of the formalities later, but for now, I’m sure you’d like some tea and cake.”
From the kitchen, a new nun enters the dining room, announcing, “I’ll think you’ll find, Sister Julienne, there is very little cake left!”
Gesturing first towards the yet-to-be-introduced nun and then towards Shelagh, Sister Julienne responds, “Sister Evangelina, may I introduce Nurse McIntosh and her daughter, Angela?”
The irritated nun offers a polite smile in Shelagh’s direction before turning her attention back to the Sister-in-Charge. “Most of this cake is gone, and it was coconut, an ingredient liable to smear itself all over the consumer’s face, so it should be easy to determine who ate the majority of this cake.”
Sister Evangelina and Sister Monica Joan bicker about the cake for another minute or two before Sister Julienne finally puts a stop to it. “Nurse McIntosh, it appears your little one has had enough excitement for one afternoon. If it’s alright with you, I’ll ask Nurse Miller to show you to your room, where you can get Angela settled for a nap. Afterwards, please join me in the clinical room.”
Shelagh finds herself nodding once more, but before she has a chance to figure out the best way to carry Angela and their luggage all at once, she finds it is an unnecessary problem to solve. Nurse Franklin has already fetched the luggage; Nurse Miller has her bag; and all Shelagh must do is gather a groggy Angela into her arms.
With quiet whispers, the two young nurses—who Shelagh determines cannot be more than twenty-two years old at most—lead her out of the dining area and up the stairs, guiding her to a small room at the end of a hallway. Opening the door, Shelagh finds the room contains two beds, a chest of drawers, and a small table and lamp between the two beds.
She lays Angela down on the closest bed and turns around to find Nurse Miller still hovering in the doorway. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to sit with her for a while, so that you have a chance to speak with Sister Julienne. I’m not first on call, so I wouldn’t mind at all.”
A bit surprised by the offer, as she is not used to having assistance or help with Angela outside of a paid sitter during working hours, Shelagh offers a thankful, tired smile. “Thank you very much. I’ll be back soon.”
After wandering around a moment in search of the clinical room, Shelagh finally locates it downstairs. Seeing Sister Julienne inside, she knocks quietly from the doorway, receiving a cheerful greeting in response. “Come in.”
Before anything about the position can be discussed, Sister Julienne explains the reasoning by the strange greeting Shelagh and Angela received upon arriving. “Sister Monica Joan was one of the first midwives to qualify in England. Her family did not approve of her career choice, nor did they support her and her entry into religious life. It is our privilege to care for her, though she can be a bit……eccentric……at times. I imagine she gave you a greeting upon arrival that was different than what you may have been expecting, but I do hope you don’t run away.”
Changing the subject a bit, the Sister-in-Charge asks, “Do you have a faith, Nurse McIntosh?”
“Yes, I grew up Presbyterian, but have spent the last couple of years here in London, so I have become more familiar with the Church of England. Is that…..”
Before she can finish her question, the nun answers with a smile, “Yes. We’re Anglican. The way you worship is your own affair. We wear the habit, you wear your uniform, but we are all nurses first and midwives foremost.”
There is more to be said, but before their discussion can continue, another nun enters the clinical room. Shelagh is introduced to Sister Odelia, who she can immediately tell is friendly, but likes to keep busy and isn’t interested in small talk. Once she finishes her tasks in the clinical room, Sister Odelia departs, leaving Shelagh alone with Sister Julienne once more. The Sister-in-Charge takes some time to explain how things work around Nonnatus House, including maternity boxes, the supplies carried in the midwives’ bags, and how their scheduling system works for shifts. Once that’s finished, the nun asks, “Have you made arrangements for young Angela to begin attending nursery school?”
“Yes, we are scheduled to visit the school tomorrow, and Angela will begin on Monday, as that is the first day I’m scheduled to work. And thank you, again, for allowing us both to reside here. I know it must be so unusual, having a toddler living in a convent, but I promise she won’t be too underfoot.”
Tilting her head to the side, Sister Julienne quietly asks, “Do you have any family here in London?”
We don’t have any family left anywhere, but that is not information needing to be shared at this time.
“No. My parents are both gone; my only brother died in the war; my late husband’s parents passed away a few years ago; and he had no living brothers or sisters.”
Shelagh can tell her new supervisor has other questions, but she makes no further inquiries regarding Shelagh’s past or her family. Instead, she sends her upstairs to unpack and rest with Angela.
Over the course of the next few days, Shelagh finds herself adjusting to the way of life at Nonnatus House. Her first day involved getting lost during house calls, but thankfully, she received help from passersby and a kind police constable. She has also had some time to observe her new colleagues, all of whom have been so kind to both her and Angela.
Sister Monica Joan is eccentric, and Shelagh very rarely understands what the elderly nun is referring to in conversation, but she has taken quite a liking to Angela, sneaking the girl into the kitchen for treats of cakes and biscuits. Sister Evangelina knows Poplar and its people extremely well, and has been patient as Shelagh learns her way around, which Shelagh can tell is not a virtue which comes easily to the sensible nun. Like Sister Evangelina, Sister Odelia is a hard worker, and seems to be gone from the convent more often than present inside its walls, but both nuns are quickly impressed by Shelagh’s midwifery skills, and do not hover or micromanage when sharing a case. Sister Julienne has answered all of Shelagh’s questions with thoughtful care, but has never once pried into her private life, which Shelagh appreciates. Nurses Franklin and Miller—who insist Shelagh call them Trixie and Cynthia, respectively—have been so incredibly welcoming. They helped her unpack; have shown her around the convent; and have taken time to play with and get to know Angela, as well.
Everyone has been so kind.
One evening, after Angela is sound asleep, Trixie and Cynthia knock on Shelagh’s door, inviting her downstairs for a warm drink in the kitchen. Knowing that Angela is a sound sleeper and is extremely unlikely to wake up, Shelagh accepts their offer, wrapping her dressing gown tighter to fight off the chilly night air and tiptoeing downstairs to the kitchen. She finds the two younger nurses buttering slices of toast and sipping tea, which they are quick to offer her, as well.
As soon as she sits down at the table, there is a knock on the kitchen door, as a man’s voice asks, “Are you decent?”
It is clear the other nurses recognize the voice, as Trixie answers with a giggle, “We’re all in our unmentionables! The sight will make your day.”
Shelagh is soon introduced to Mr. Fred Buckle, the handyman at Nonnatus House. He seems kind, cheerful, and well-liked by the staff. Once he leaves the kitchen, Cynthia asks, “I know Angela is three, but when is her birthday? She’s such a sweet little girl, we’ll want to make a cake and do something special to celebrate.”
A wide smile stretches across Shelagh's face in response to such thoughtfulness. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until next year. Angela’s birthday is in the middle of February.”
Cynthia shrugs with a shy smile of her own. “It will give us time to get to know her even better, then.”
Trixie has been listening, but seems to finally give into growing curiosity as she asks, “Does it make midwifery easier, being able to relate to your patients, as you have your own little girl?”
Taking a few seconds to gather her thoughts before responding, Shelagh’s gaze drifts towards the table as she answers, “In many ways, yes. I am familiar with the aches and pains of pregnancy, the ordeal of childbirth, and the care of newborn infants, so it does make it a bit easier to explain things to my patients as they experience these things, especially if they are first-time mothers.”
She senses Trixie has a long list of questions waiting to be asked, but Cynthia seems to sense this as well, as she somewhat hurriedly changes the subject. “Well, Sister Evangelina has declared you, ‘extremely competent,’ which is the highest praise I’ve ever heard her bestow on anyone. We are very glad to have you and Angela here with us.”
A couple of days later, after a long day of house calls and clinic, Shelagh finds herself alone in the bedroom she shares with Angela. Her daughter has been whisked away to search for cake with Sister Monica Joan, and Sister Odelia had passed by just long enough to promise to keep an eye on the pair so Shelagh could have a half hour or so of peace and quiet.
Almost as soon as Shelagh has taken a seat on her bed, there is knock on her door, followed by Trixie letting herself in, carrying a cup and saucer. “Room service! I’ve noticed you are not at all interested in alcoholic beverages, so I thought you might like a cup of Horlicks.”
There is somewhat of an uncomfortable pause, as it is clear Trixie desperately wishes to ask her something, so Shelagh breaks the silence. “What’s on your mind this evening?”
Looking both guilty and somewhat excited, Trixie suggests, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to come out sometime with Cynthia and I? I know you have Angela to think about, but I’m sure one of the sisters would be willing to keep an eye on her. Sister Monica Joan seems absolutely besotted with her. Anyway, they have these tremendous dances down at the church hall, and it can be great fun.”
Oh.
I expected any number of questions, but not that.
Shelagh glances down at the wedding ring she still wears on her left hand, as Trixie begins rapidly offering apologies. “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. I’ve overstepped. I certainly didn’t mean you had to dance with a man or search for any sort of romance. You’re welcome to come along and just enjoy an evening out. This is likely overstepping once more, and it isn’t any of my business, but may I ask, how long ago did your husband…..well, how long has it been since……”
Reaching out and placing a gentle hand over Trixie’s, Shelagh stops her from continuing to stumble over questions. “It’s alright, really. Though it was a bit startling, I appreciate the invitation. I’m not sure I’m up for any dances, though. I’m thirty-one years old, you know, and my years of evenings out are past me, I think. To answer your question, my husband—Gerald—passed away in 1954, so just a little over three years ago. He had been wounded during the war, there was an issue with shrapnel……the surgeries, blood loss, and recovery seemed to weaken his heart. One day, it simply gave out.”
He collapsed, right in front of me as we were enjoying the sunset in the cold, winter air.
I never expected him to live an incredibly long life, but I didn’t think he would pass on before he had reached his thirty-fifth birthday, either.
He was gone so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to tell him goodbye or that I loved him, and not a day goes by without missing him.
Realizing she has been lost in thought, Shelagh hesitantly glances upwards, seeing tears in her colleague’s eyes as Trixie dabs them away. “I can see just by the look on your face that you had a beautiful romance, and I’m so sorry. I won’t ask you any more questions about it for now, and if you ever change your mind, Cynthia and I would love to take you with us on an outing, even if it’s just to take Angela to get an ice cream.”
“She would enjoy that, though I fear she receives a remarkable amount of sweets from Sister Monica Joan.”
I am very blessed to have found such a kind group of colleagues.
They’ve only known me a few days, and they already seem to genuinely care for both myself and Angela.
Typically, Shelagh is not assigned any night shifts, considering Angela’s young age. However, she has had to occasionally be on call, and on nights such as this one, she ends up needing to attend a pre-term birth.
It is a horribly foggy night, and a police constable cycles alongside her, helping her reach her destination.
The delivery is a difficult one. The child is born living, but with no guarantee of long-term survival, and due to both the pre-term birth and excessive bleeding from the mother, the obstetric flying squad is summoned, though it takes a while for them to arrive. Shelagh is forced to do her best to care for a poorly infant and mother simultaneously—both of whom are in need of hospital-grade care—and by the time the flying squad arrives, she finds herself exhausted.
As the flying squad makes plans to take mother and baby to the hospital, another man comes rushing into the room, quickly introducing himself. “The name’s Turner, patient’s GP. Sorry I was delayed. Three bronchitis patients, one after the other.”
I remember Sister Julienne briefly mentioning that the doctor I’ve met at clinic was a locum, and that the regular physician was away at a conference.
Shelagh, Doctor Turner, and the flying squad physicians spend the next hour getting everything sorted with their two patients. The flying squad takes the mother and baby to the hospital. Doctor Turner takes some time to explain everything—very calmly and kindly—to the extremely worried father. Shelagh does her best to clean up the bedroom where the baby had been born.
Once everything is tidy, she is surprised to find the doctor coming back upstairs, ducking his head into the bedroom to ask, “Would you care for a lift back to Nonnatus House? I saw your bicycle outside, but the fog is abysmally thick, and you must be fatigued.”
Shaking his head as though he has misplaced something, the doctor runs a tired hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten my manners. I don’t think we’ve met yet. You must be the new addition at Nonnatus House?”
As she finishes packing up her bag, Shelagh answers, “Yes, I’m Nurse McIntosh. It’s nice to meet you, Doctor. Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“I’m absolutely certain it’s no trouble at all. I’m sure you can fetch your bicycle tomorrow. I’ll meet you downstairs, whenever you’re ready.”
Fifteen minutes later, Shelagh finally makes her way downstairs and back out into the fog, which has somehow managed to grow even thicker over the past few hours. Looking for her bicycle, intending to ensure it will be fine overnight, she finds it nowhere to be found. Before she can worry about possible thievery, Doctor Turner steps out of his car and points towards a neighboring flat. “My apologies. I took the liberty of asking a neighbor if they would house your bicycle overnight. I didn’t see you come out, or I would have said something immediately.”
Opening the passenger door for her, the doctor waits for Shelagh to climb into the car before shutting the door behind her and rushing around to the driver’s side.
From there, they begin the slow drive back to Nonnatus, Shelagh staying quiet as the doctor’s eyes remain focused on the road, in an attempt to see anything at all in this horrific fog. Eventually, they arrive safely at the convent, and Doctor Turner insists on coming around to open the passenger door for her once more. “You did very well tonight. Thank you for your help, and it was a pleasure meeting you.”