Nun-Nurse: A series of one shots

Small cut reflections

I wake up, well, I stopped tossing and turning, I have hardly slept since that day at the summer fair. I look at that cut on my hand, the cut that tortures my insides.

I unwillingly think back to all the sinful desires that have played me. I think of the time I took my wimple and glasses off when the nurses went dancing, the split second of longing and wondering at Chummy's wedding, the time at Christmas when I told him how children are resilient and the way he ran into the scouts Christmas Pantomime, the look of joy on Timothy's face and the warm, large smile on his face as he took a seat. I thought back to when I got my new glasses, and my secret hope that he would notice- which he did, he almost tripped over when he saw them and I noticed him looking once or twice during clinic. I had a pang of regret at the thought that I caused him to be so dishevelled with the gas and air, then I winced at the memory of defending him to the nurses, thankful nobody has brought it up again, I think back to the memory of Chummy leaving and the fleeting thought of leaving my life for a new calling, but I soon told myself off for that. I think of offering him tea when he was doing the Kelly notes and I impulsively said that stupid comment about wishing faith made a difference, I then ran off. The growing voice in my head regretted not taking his offer to have tea, but I also am relieved but I just do not know how to feel. The Carter birth is etched in my mind, we all knew it was going to be a handful, but when I had performed the external version, Meg flew into the room and before any of us could register what was happening, she drew him off of her sister, which caused me to jump up and pull her off of him. She slapped me. It was not the first time I had been attacked during or after a birth, and I quickly got back to Maeve, I could tell his anger was bubbling and he was controlling his temper. I don't know why I physically defended him! The adrenaline? The growing voice in my head? My lo- no. Maybe. I don't know! Then we shared a cigarette and I told him more about myself and I loved the feeling of knowing that I placed my lips where his were just placed. I think about when Trixie was talking to me about Jane not having been kissed, that just made more dreams of him come. I wake up in a cold sweat thinking about things that break my vow of chastity. Nonnatus always talks about Sister Evangelina matchmaking Chummy and Peter,and I think about matchmaking Jane and the Reverend Applebee-Thornton, I more then once during his stay wishes to work with him, but to no avail, whether that is good or not I am unsure. I tried talking to Sister Julienne but Sister Monica Joan's fake heart attack got in the way, then Sister Monica Joan mentioned that I spent a lot of time in prayer and I was always sad, if only she knew. That was after both me listening to the nurses, wishing away my habit to join them and locking my eyes with him over the spirt lamps, my imagination has made up many inappropriate scenarios of what would of happened if Timothy has not ran in. I felt as though he could see me, not Sister Bernadette, the women underneath, as if he could see my soul.

Then it was the day of the summer fair.

During the Cubs performance, my eyes drifted to him. He looked so carefree and happy and Timothy although hating being Maid Marion, was happy his dad was there. Then he got pulled away to Nora Harding's 'miscarriage' and Timothy's face dropped and his performance was not as good, he lost his enthusiasm. The play ended, the three-legged race was about to begin and he had not returned so I offered to do the race with Timothy instead. We got into our place as the race was about to begin. The horn went off and we soon found rhythm, we had overtaken the other partners when his voice grew loud as he watched us. Me and Timothy won, and fell. He told his son to stay put till we were untied and- ever the gentleman, though I think it was due to nervousness- he let me undo the knot. Timothy ran off as he handed me my glasses and observed that my hand was cut, I made a stupid joke about not needing amputation, and walked to the parish hall kitchen. I was running my hand under cold water, half wanting him to follow me and half not. He had followed. He asked if he would like him to have a look and I said yes. We both knew it was a small cut and I could easily deal with it, and in hindsight I should of said that but I could not. He held me small left hand in both of his big, strong, dry hands he gentle stroked over the slightly damp wound (as I do now, like I do every other time I think of his thumb lightly grazing my palm) and he drew it closer to his face...

He kissed it.

I pulled away and turned around. We spoke about forgiveness and unforgiving, I asked who decided what is forgiving and not and he told me that I knew better then him, and I told him that I was turning my back on him because of my vows not him, he respected that and turned away. I remember is so clearly, but in a blur.

I want the scar to disappear, but I do not exactly help that to happen, I have rubbed soap and alcohol into it as if that could wash all my sins away. Every time I look at it or someone asked about it, I see his face and change the subject as quick as I can. I can still feel his warm lips on my skin a week later.

I get dressed, and hold my bible open on my lap. I tried to read the words, but everything merged together, so end up staring into space, trying and failing to get rid of his face from my head. Then there was a knock on the door.

I opened it and followed Sister Julienne to Lauds. I sang and prayed with my sisters, but the words just filtered through me and I heard his laugh and saw his face. After Lauds Sister Julienne pulled me aside.

"Sister, could you cover appointments for me this morning, we also have a meeting with the board of health this morning about getting an TB van?" She asked with a smile.

I plaster a fake smile on my face, "Of course Sister, who is we?" I feared the answer.

My fears where true, "Dr Turner".