Trixie took one last glance in her compact mirror and frowned. "I know Jane, Chummy and Sister Bernadette all had good reasons for leaving, but after that clinic I feel like escaping myself. There's not enough powder in the world to cover these dark circles." She shut the compact with an irritated snap but, from long practice, mustered up a smile. "I'm just glad I didn't frighten off the patients."

"Three nurses leaving at once is a lot," Cynthia acknowledged as she repacked the cleaned test tubes and spirit lamps. "I don't think we've been this busy since before you came, Jenny – remember Trixie? When all of the nuns caught the flu, one after the other?"

Trixie groaned, partly from the memory and partly from her aching feet. "Do I? I was the one who had to play headmistress and make sure they didn't disobey doctor's orders and sneak out of their beds." Her grin turned mischievous. "It was rather fun ordering Sister Evangelina about."

They all laughed quietly, peeking discretely through the kitchen hatch to make sure the bossy elder nun wasn't around to hear them.

"Oh," Trixie sighed and lit up a cigarette. "But that was barely two weeks, and it was only temporary. Now Jane's in nursing school, Chummy's still recovering –"

"And she has Freddie and Peter to think of," Cynthia pointed out.

"Yes. And Sister Bernadette…" Trixie trailed off. Cynthia and Jenny became quiet too.

Sister Bernadette had been greatly missed during her months recuperating from TB at St. Anne's sanatorium. She was one of their most qualified midwives and an excellent and kind teacher.

But more than that, Trixie had realized during the first week of the nun's absence, she was a friend. She missed her quiet sense of humor and her patience. The young sister had always served as a sort of interpreter and a peacemaker between the nurses and the older nuns. Without her, they still rubbed along, but there was grit in the works, and misunderstandings became more frequent.

Trixie, remembering the obvious delight the sister took in hearing about the nurses' dates and nights out, had made a point to write her and visit regularly, even when she had hardly any news or gossip to pass on. And if Sister Bernadette seemed tired or withdrawn during her visits, well, that was probably down to the illness.

Thankfully, after a few short months, Sister Bernadette recovered, but the news of her good health was immediately followed by the announcement that she would not be returning to Nonnatus. She had chosen to leave the religious life – and her home – to return to being someone called, "Shelagh Mannion," again.

Trixie was flummoxed by the news. She'd never quite understood the sister's devout nature and call to a religious life, but she respected it. After dinner that evening, she'd gone to her room to try and write another letter to her – but what did one say to a nun who had decided to leave the convent? Congratulations? She wasn't even sure how to address it; just "Shelagh" seemed too informal, and right now she felt as though she barely knew her. Why would she leave? Was Trixie even allowed to ask?

In the end, she gave up on the letter and decided to wait until she saw the former sister in person again. Trixie was still waiting for that meeting, and she still didn't know what she'd say.

"Why do you think she left?" Jenny said, asking the question they all wanted an answer to

"Well, I know why I would leave," Trixie said with a teasing smirk. "Those habits do absolutely nothing for the figure."

"Yes, but that's not Sister Bernadette, is it?" Jenny said. She leaned across the table so she could whisper. "Alec has a theory."

"Please tell me you did not spend your entire afternoon off with him discussing the nuns, Jenny," Trixie said, puffing briefly on her Sobranie. It had taken Jenny long enough to come around to the idea of dating Alec – he seemed ideal to everyone but her – and Trixie hoped she wouldn't screw up a good thing now.

"No," Jenny said, looking down at her hands to hide a rising blush. "He came by Nonnatus the other day. You weren't here."

Trixie giggled. "Alone with a man in a convent – how scandalous!" She lowered her voice to a whisper again, her eyes sparkling. "So, what is Mr. Jesmond's theory?"

Jenny folded her hands. "Well, he said he saw Dr. Turner shopping for an engagement ring."

"But what does that have to do with –" Trixie gasped and her blue eyes widened. "You don't mean –"

Jenny nodded. "I know. It's absolutely ridiculous. Sister Bernadette and Dr. Turner?"

Ridiculous wasn't the word Trixie would have chosen, but it was rather hard to imagine them as a couple. When she tried, her mind kept circling back to the last birth she'd attended with the two of them – Meg Carter's miraculous twins. It had been a hard, long birth, filled with complications and interruptions from Meg's fractious sister, Mave. But the doctor and the nun worked almost completely in sync with one another and remained consummate professionals, even after Mave attacked them, pushed Dr. Turner to the ground and slapped Sister Bernadette across the face.

"Are you all right?" she'd heard the doctor ask the sister in a low voice after it was all over and they were preparing to leave. As Trixie cinched her bag to the back of her bike, she saw him raise his hand toward the nun's cheek, then clench his fist and drop it back to his side.

"Perfectly fine, doctor," the nun murmured and took a tiny step back, her face pink in the chilly morning air. "It looked worse than it really was."

Trixie remembered now. She had left, eager for her bed, but Sister Bernadette hadn't immediately followed. She'd lingered. So had the doctor.

She began to smile, slowly. It could mean anything, but…

"Actually –" Cynthia broke in, having been quiet and withdrawn for most of the conversation. "I heard something, too." She frowned and twisted her hands in front of her. "I wasn't sure whether to say anything, but I was visiting a patient – Mrs. Williams, you know how she likes to gossip – and I overheard her talking."

"What did she say?" Jenny asked.

"Knowing Mrs. Williams I doubt it was anything kind," Trixie snapped.

Cynthia hesitated before continuing. "Just that she'd seen Sister Bernadette out with Timothy recently, and that others had seen her and Dr. Turner – well – courting, I suppose." Her frown deepened. "She said Sister Bernadette must have been kicked out of the convent for breaking her vows with him."

Trixie sucked in a sharp breath. "But that's not true at all! How could people say such things?"

"We don't know what's true and what's not, Trixie," Jenny said.

Trixie drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing. "Jenny Lee. Sister Bernadette is one of the kindest, most honest and devout people we know. Whatever has happened, she is our friend, and she's done nothing to warrant such hateful gossip."

They were silent again, each trying to absorb the troubling and confusing rumors swirling about their old friend. What had happened? And more importantly, what did it all mean now?

"She was always fond of Timothy," Cynthia said softly.

Trixie chuckled briefly. "Yes. When I visited her once in the sanatorium, he made me bring her a dead butterfly to diagnose. I think she was proud of him, said he had an inquiring mind, " she said, remembering the nun's wide smile.

"And poor Dr. Turner. He was probably so worried about her," Cynthia said.

Trixie sighed and stubbed out the rest of her cigarette. "They couldn't truly be together. And then all those months apart, never knowing if she would – " her throat tightened and she looked down at her ashtray to hide her sudden tears. How terrible, what could have happened.

But how beautiful, what had happened between them. It had to be true; Trixie needed it to be true. For Sis – Shelagh – and Dr. Turner. For Timothy. And even for herself. If such love could exist outside of the films, then there was still hope.

"If she did leave to be with him, I think it's romantic," she said, a slight dreamy smile on her face.

Cynthia returned her grin. "Dr. Turner wasn't wearing his wedding ring today. I noticed when he went to wash his hands."

"And he was whistling when he came in," Jenny said. "It was rather odd."

Trixie laughed. "Well, that settles it. Looks like we've got quite the May-December romance on our hands."

"Do you think the nuns know?" Cynthia asked, giggling.

Trixie gasped and laughed again. "If they don't, I don't fancy being the one to tell Sister Evangelina."