The last flicker of light faded from the sky as I, Trixie Franklin arrived Nonnatus house for the 3rd time that day. I had just delivered Shirley Redmond's second baby, this time it was a little boy, thankfully there had been no complications. Jenny was leaving when I entered the kitchen. Betty Farmer had just gone into labour - 3 months early - and Doctor Turner had been called. Jenny and Sister Bernadette had gone to assist.

I was alone for the first time that day. I wasn't sure if that was good or not, it was in these rare moments on a busy day that I actually had time to think. Unlike usual my thoughts did not turn to how Shirley Redmond's little boy was doing, or whether Mrs Edgware would give birth on her due date or not. Actually the thought that I was currently entertaining was probably as far from midwifery as you could get.

The item that was presently taking over my thoughts was a postcard that sat on the table. It portrayed beach, the waves rolling onto the shore, the sun shining down on the picturesque scene. The reason it had captured my thoughts was because it looked just like the beach I used to play on as a small child. Then I realised it probably was the same beach. I walked over and tentatively picked up the card turning it round in my pale hands.

"Eating cake are we, Nurse Franklin?" Sister Evangelina boomed, startling me from my day dream. I dropped the postcard like it was hot coals. Sister Monica-Joan was right about her, her voice was vaguely reminiscent of a foghorn. I spun around.

"Oh, no cake then," Sister Evangelina muttered, sounding disappointed.

"There is some in the pan over there," I said gesturing at the stove. "It's Victoria sponge," I added as Sister Evangelina started to cut herself a slice of cake and the telephone began to ring. I departed the room and picked up the telephone.

"Nonnatus House Midwife speaking."

….

Later that night I was sitting on Cynthia's bed drinking gin, playing monopoly and smoking, when my thoughts drifted back to the postcard. Jenny was on call so she was in her uniform, whereas I and Cynthia weren't. Jenny was currently purchasing Bond Street and Cynthia was in jail. I hadn't thought about that beach for such a long time, such a very long time…. "Trixie, it's your go," Jenny laughed, handing me the dice. I rolled, and got double 3; I moved the iron 6 spaces and landed on Mayfair.

"Damn, how much is that?" I inquired, turning to face Cynthia, and taking another drag on my cigarette.

"Umm," She paused. "£2,000,"Cynthia continued. I turned to the fake money and started counting all the pieces of paper. I had £500, two £50's and three £100's, most defiantly not enough to afford the rent.

"Wait," Jenny interjected. "Cynthia you're in jail, you can't collect rent!" She shouted, as there was a knock on the door.

"Hide the gin!" I whispered urgently, placing it carelessly in a draw. Cynthia stood and walked the few paces to the door, as these weren't really big rooms.

"There's a young man at the door….." Sister Bernadette's sing-song voice wafted in the room.

"It's probably Jimmy" I interrupted, eyeing Jenny suspiciously and taking another drag on my cigarette.

"No, actually Nurse Franklin, they were asking for you," I nodded, and followed Sister Bernadette to the entrance hall - fully aware that Cynthia and Jenny were right behind me.

He was standing just in front of the red wooden door in full Navy uniform, even the hat. His dark blonde hair flopped as he ran his fingers threw it nervously. I ran the last few metres over to him. We embraced tightly; and he lifted me off my feet.

"Excuse me?" I heard Jenny ask.

"Who are you?" Cynthia finished politely.

"I'm Bobby Franklin." He said extending his hand out to the other two midwives.

"Trixie's brother." Someone cleared their throat behind Bobby and I wheeled round. My blood ran cold, there he was standing - he too in Navy uniform. I cursed silently. Not him, please anybody but him. I wanted to run; I wanted to hide, so I did.

I didn't get more than five paces until a strong grip encircled my arm and pulled me round. I refused to turn my head and look at him.

"What gives you the right?" I whispered, still not looking at him. "To come to my place of work after what…" I paused, "After what you did? Eh Raymond, what right do you have?" I spat.

…

The silence after I spoke seemed to last forever. I don't think I'd ever heard silence quite that loud, like it was trying to pull me down, drowning me. It was broken by the shrill rigging of the telephone, and Jenny walked off to pick it up.

"Do you want some tea?" Cynthia asked hopefully, gesturing in the vague direction of the kitchen.

"I sure wouldn't mind some," My brother, ever the gentleman replied, taking his hat off and following Cynthia. I watched them go, still refusing looking at him.

Silence was all there was left after Booby and Cynthia's departure. Raymond let go of my arm and was standing, looking at the door.

"What do you want?" I asked, quietly, finally turning to face him.

"Your forgiveness. My heart is broken, and I want you to fix it" He stated in his soft Irish accent, also turning to face me. He looked like he hadn't aged a day; he still had the same dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

"I gave you forgiveness five years ago." I declared, quietly. "I gave you love and all you did was say goodbye. I am heartbroken, too." I added as an afterthought. We lapsed back it to silence, because both of us knew that whatever we said wouldn't be able to mend the cracks that had started to appear after five years of nothing.

…

I don't know how long we stood there for. Not doing anything, except remembering, that was. The silence was broken by Bobby and Cynthia's laughter emanating from the kitchen. Jenny had passed us by at some point, rushing out to help Mrs Pritchard. The telephone rang and Sister Julienne appeared from the chapel.

"Oh forgive me Nurse Franklin; I wasn't aware we had guests. Young man, I'm sure Nurse will be able to stich that wound above your eye," I swung round at the Nun's words, and looked at Raymond. Sure enough he did have a gash above his eye. I plastered a fake smile on my face and nodded, leading him into the room where we prepared the delivery packs. I gestured to a chair as we entered, and turned to readying a needle and thread.

"You broke me," Raymond whispered.

"We broke each other." I said, my voice wavering slightly.

"We can still fix it." He stated, optimistically, and I saw he was smiling as well.

"We broke each other," I repeated. "Too much to be fixed now." The smile slipped from his face.

"Trixie, please…" I heard the plea in his voice but ignored him, and continued readying the needle.